Penitence & Patience, Glitches & Viruses
by Illisandria Carthain
Summary: Red binary flickered across his face as gibberish flew from his lips. She backed against a candy-cane tree behind her, leaping away as blue-red glitches ran across her arm where she touched the candy. No, this was not happening. There was no way this was happening...She had to find Ralph. NOW. Mirror on AO3 under SandriaC.
1. Sour Bill's Doodie

Vanellope von Shweetz, Lady President of Sugar Rush, was having a rather normal day. She hadn't been voted in to the Roster today, so she had nothing better to do than wander around Kandy Kein forest and stare at the programming glitches as they flickered across the screen. Sure, every game was as safe as they could be, but almost every one had glitches. The ones in Sugar Rush were small, birds of bright colours that shot flames and rainbows made of Skittles that sparkled as they flew across the sky. Blue glitches, good glitches.

Then a shock of red "1"s and "0"s shot across, catching her attention. "Red?" She wondered aloud, "What do red glitches mean?"

Curious, she jumped from branch-to-branch with a practiced swing and a hop, avoiding double-stripes and snagging a lower branch to land on the milk-chocolate ground with a dull thump. The red glitches were more frequent now, skittering across the stripes of the trees and running up the spun-sugar grass. There were none of the blue glitches here, the sky devoid of their bright presence. Vanellope shimmered, pixilating and reforming in an instant. The hairs on her nape stood up; she hadn't done that, not on purpose. Why did she glitch?

The closer she got to the source of the red glitches, the less control she had. Her form flickered spastically, jumping around with neither reason nor rhyme. Why? What was happening? Suddenly she heard an incoherent shriek coming from in front of her and she froze, fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. Overcoming her fear, she walked forward and stared at a flickering figure beneath a tree.

Alternating between red and colour, the figure was small but mature, the size of Vanellope but much older. Its—his?—skin was a blue-grey colour, sickly and pale, pocked with patches of red and Void.

Vanellope gasped, she knew who that was. He couldn't,**SHOULDN'T** be alive! He was flickering at an abnormal rate, more often red than his signature pallet, and the red glitches flew away from wherever he touched, tainting the trees and the ground.

Vanellope backed away, accidentally stepping on a strand of Laffy Taffy, causing it to shriek in pain. Suddenly, he turned to face her, eyes pleading. Red binary flickered across his face as gibberish flew from his lips. She backed against a candy-cane tree behind her, leaping away as blue-red glitches ran across her arm where she touched the candy. No, this was not happening. There was no way this was happening...She had to find Ralph. NOW.

\/4|\|3110|*3 \/0|\| 5(|-|\/\/3372

Ralph heaved himself from the mud puddle and scraped some of the offending liquid from the front of his overalls. "Damn it...looks like another bath night for me, huh?" Leaning back, he ran an oversized hand through his messy russet hair, "_Hey Gene! Did it rain last night or is this puddle just bigger and sloppier for no apparent reason?_"

Nicelander Gene poked his head over the rooftop of Niceland Apartment Complex and shrugged, "_Search me! Maybe it's just your imagination!_"

Ralph shook his head wearily, no. It wasn't **just him**. Whatever suited Gene's twisted perception of reality, he supposed.

They went through the promotional motions while they waited for another quarter, Ralph gleefully tossing Gene across the screen and then wrecking the Nicelander's apartments. Felix dutifully fixed them and then they reset, waiting for someone else to play _Fix-It Felix Jr._. Finally, the last player came and went, passing up their machine for the currently favoured _Sugar Rush_. Ralph silently thanked Litwak when the arcade finally closed, the all-clear coming from DDR S+.

He popped his back as he stood up, groaning when the pain cycled through his back. Looking around, Ralph spotted a cart coming in. _Who would be coming in so early?_ He wondered, _and why would they be in such a hurry?_.

"Help! Ralph! Felix!" The normally droll voice of Sour Bill echoed from the cart, tinged with panic and need, "Help!"

Felix hopped down the building, leaping off of window ledges and landing on the ground in front of the _Sugar Rush_ inhabitant. "What's th' matter," Felix asked, "Is there somethin' wrong?"

"He – Vanellope, she – and then—" the small sucker was incoherent, babbling as if his life depended on it.

"_Woah_, slow down Bill, or I'm gonna' lick you again!" Ralph picked the piece of candy up and stared at him intently, "What's the matter?"

Sour Bill took a deep breath and started over, "Vanellope called for you. There's a Virus in _Sugar Rush_ and she need you two. She also needs, in her words, _'that lady with the huge gun'_."

An 8-bit exclamation point shot up over Felix's head, calling to life a loud three-tone notice of worry. "Ya mean that Vanellope is in danger?! I'll go get Tammy!" With that, he raced to the cart and rode to _Game Central Station_ to find his—for lack of a better word—girlfriend.

"_Tammy?_" Ralph shook his head in amusement and then dropped Bill to the ground.

The diminutive announcer dusted his outer layer off and harrumphed, "No time to bother with that, the President needs you!"

The urgency in his voice spurred Ralph to action, grabbing the little man and leaping into a cart. _Promise me, Edison, promise me that she'll be okay. Promise me that..._

\/\/|?3(|{ |7 |?4|_|*|-|

Sgt. Calhoun shot Cy-Bug-shaped targets with a fierce determination as her men cheered her from behind. It had been a rather stressful day, they had had one kid who played all the way through the building and then seven other Players before Litwak's closed. Way too much work for even the tough-as-nails Tamora Jean Calhoun, Sergeant Third-Class. That's why she was having target practice. Mindless violence worked wonders on her blood-pressure.

"Go Sergeant! Kill the fucking bug!"  
"Cal-houn, Cal-houn, Cal-houn!"  
"Way to go, ma'am, that last shot was right in between their optic-orbs; a direct hit to the central processor!"  
"Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven...you do realise you're gonna' owe me a hundred dollars pretty soon."

Their mindless chatter helped her focus; for her, it was a lot easier to fire a plasma-gun under duress, so when it was quiet it was nigh-on-impossible for her to hit the barn side of a broad. One voice, however, stood out from all the others.

"Sergeant, ma'am! Ma'am! This is a'mergency!"

_Felix._

She turned around, beating Corporal Markowski upside the head with the barrel of her gun—purely by accident—because he was standing too close to her. Ignoring his shrieks of pain (the pansy) she cocked her hips, hands akimbo, and cleared her throat. Dead silence ensued and she spoke up, "Alright ladies, get your asses out of here! Pronto!" Within a minute, the shooting range was empty. She knelt down to be eye-level with her boyfriend, "What is it Felix?"

"Well, um...," the "honey glow", as he called it, spread quickly across his face. Almost as if he realised how important his job was, he straightened up and cleared his throat, "Vanellope need us."

"Us?" One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in question.

"There's a Virus in _Sugar Rush_ an' she needs you, me, an' Ralph t'help, I surmise." Felix's voice was full of authority, his back straight and his figure—all four feet and two inches of him—rather imposing. It made Calhoun rather hot, though she would never admit it.

"A Virus? Is there another Cy-Bug?" The shock was only partially faked; she was surprised and concerned that there was a virus in _Sugar Rush_, but there was no way there was a Cy-Bug outside _Hero's Duty_ because she made **damn well sure** that not one wriggling Cy-Bug antenna **touched**Game Central Station, let alone any other game.

Felix shook his head, "Not sure. Could be jus'bout _anything._. A Trojan, a Worm, who knows?"

Calhoun nodded solemnly then grabbed her gun and hover-board, "Let's go hon." The sudden use of an affectionate nickname startled Felix and he turned magenta, stammering like and idiot. Eventually the shock wore off and he hopped after her, thanking Edison that his girlfriend was a hot momma.

74/\/\0|?4 _|34|\| (4|_|-|0|_||\|

Vanellope paced nervously, sneakered feet slapping the fondant tiles. She was sweating bullets, freaking the frosting out, nervous as a Dum-Dum in the rain. _Please,_ she prayed, _Sweet Edison, creator of the lightbulb, let it be okay. Let this __**not**__ be a huge problem. Let this not be an issue. I don't think I can handle another big issue like King Candy...like Turbo._

With every third step, her form glitched and she re-formed a foot away from where she started. It was unstable and irregular; normally she had better control over herself and her emotions. Now, at that exact moment, she had no control. No control over her emotions and even less control over her code, her "pixlexia". She was all over the place and it could be felt in all of the presidential castle.

A knock sounded at the large front door, interrupting her terrified rounds, and she went to answer it immediately. On the other side of the milk-chocolate moat was Sour Bill and Ralph, both looking extremely nervous. Vanellope lowered the graham-cracker drawbridge and let them in, flickering blue.

"What took ya' so long?!" Her voice was filled to the brim with false bravado and Ralph knew it. "And where's Whatshisname and his lady? They're late!"

Ralph placed an oversized hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, "Felix went to get Calhoun. They should be here soon. Sour Bill did his duty."

She was so stressed out that she couldn't even make a "doodie" joke. "Good. Le'mme 'splain what's going on. I was hanging in Kandy Kein forest when I saw some red glitches and went to investigate. I found someone there, in the centre of the glitching. I...I had him brought here and...I can't handle this on my own...I...," she broke down, shoulders slumping and nose running as small blue glitches broke up her graphics like tears.

Ralph picked her up and wrapped his arms around her in a protective bear-hug. Nuzzling her head, he murmured, "Shh. Presidential Doodies shouldn't cry like diaper-babies. That's my job." Looking her in the eyes, Ralph smiled, "Take us to the Virus."

At that exact moment, Felix and Calhoun burst in, looking sufficiently winded. "What'd we miss...?" Felix gasped, out of breath.

"President Vanellope explained that she found the Virus and is going to take you all to see it," Sour Bill drawled, panicking state over and done with.

"Let's get on it, Lickety-Split!" Felix smiled in what he hoped to be a positive way. Vanellope snickered at the mention of her old kart, accidental or not, and skillfully glitched out of Ralph's ham-hands.

"Th-this way!" Vanellope wiped her hand across her nose and started walking towards the back of the castle. "He's being held in the Dungeon."

"Don't ya' mean the 'Fungeon'?" Ralph asked, a mischievous grin playing across his lips.

"No," Vanellope deadpanned, "It's a dungeon, not a fungeon."

"Fungeon?" Calhoun looked confused.

"Fun-Dungeon," Felix explained, "A misnomer; the place is kinda' awful."

"Hm...," Calhoun nodded as she, Ralph, and Felix followed the clearly distressed democratic leader as she hurried down hallways and staircases. "So, the '_Fun_geon' was something made up by Turbo?"

"Yeah...," Felix muttered. The atmosphere given off by Ralph and Vanellope was really jamming the sweet euphoria he got from being around his Tammy. They were so somber, quiet, and intense, it was unnerving. Normally Vanellope was spastic and annoying and Ralph was sarcastic and a tad optimistic but neither of them said a single thing.

The mood was because of something Ralph was noticing as they got closer to the dungeon: the red flickers crossing the graphics of the castle walls and floors. In some sections, entire parts of the walls were nothing but red binary and Void black.

_Edison, what's going on? Is this what the little grease monkey was talking about?! If so...this may be worse than we thought..._

They reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the dungeon, Vanellope pausing hesitantly. "He-it's in there. I...Wynchell and Duncan got it here. I...they were sworn to silence 'cause if anyone found out it was here...well, they'd freak out."

Calhoun nodded, she was the closest her game had to a ruler so she understood the sacrifices one has to make when one thinks of their people. It was a hard part of life, but necessary to survive if there were any sort of brouhaha cropping up. To allow your NPCs to lose their heads is to kill them yourselves.

Also, she had heard a weird little rumour that the candy residents of _Sugar Rush_ exploded if they got too frightened. While watching that would be hilarious, she'd rather not risk Vanellope's subjects' lives for a simple confirmation of an arcade myth.

Vanellope stood at the door for quite some time, immobile like a statue, until Ralph stepped forward and reached for the old-fashioned butterscotch door-latch. "Are you coming in, squirt?" She shook her head vigorously, like Void she was going in there with **it**. "Okaaaaay let's go guys."

Felix and Calhoun quietly followed the Bad Guy into the dungeon, their breathing echoing way too loud for their tastes. Ralph pulled the door shut—as gently as the giant **could**—and then turned to stare at the Virus. A small gasp escaped from Felix.

The Virus...was Turbo.

Beaten-looking, Turbo was flickering red and black, his skin and eyes the _Turbo Time_ grey and yellow with black irises. He was wearing a facsimile of his King Candy outfit: a dark red jacket and bow-tie with a white vest and his traditional racing pants and boots. Atop his head sat King Candy's crown, jutting from a matted mop of black hair at a crooked slant. His face held the markings Turbug had, purple lines slashing above his eyebrows and dripping underneath his lower lip, but none of the malice.

If anything, Turbo looked **scared** more than he looked wrathful. He was muttering to himself, "And then the Void said-the Void said-theVoidsaidtheVoidsaidtheVoi d—he will be m–y–p–r–o–p–hetandhewillcarrymyre-ve-ve-venge—the Void said-revenge-he will carry my-said-the prophet is tobesomeonewith-with-with—revenge on Edison-Light Bringer-Ed-d-d-disontheLightBringerdestroye rofVoid—KILL YOU!" The last line was shrieked as he glitched rapidly in front of them. His visage flickered between red binary-filled-Void, Turbo from _Turbo Time_, King Candy, and how he looked now.

Calhoun backed against a maple-fudge wall and drew her gun, "Edison-fucking-damnit! The bug's back and he's got murder on his mind! Let _me_take care of this." Barrel placed dead-centre on his forehead, Calhoun disengaged the safety and cocked her plasma gun. "Last words, _Turbo_?"

The Virus-riddled Program stared blankly at Calhoun's gun and the blazing charge of blue plasma in its barrel. "KILL YOU—YOURUINED-RUINED-RUINED-RUINEDRUINEDRUINEDME—I WAS KING-CANDY-CANDYKINGCANDYKINGCANDY-WINNING—YOU—K–I–L–L–Y–O–U—VOID WILL-K-K-KILL YOU-ALL!"

Mouth set in a grim line, Calhoun squeezed the trigger with practiced ease; even in quiet, she couldn't **possibly** miss at point-blank, could she? The _Zzt_ of the plasma gun was heard by all: the angry Ralph, the horrified Felix, and the stoic-appearing Calhoun. The plasma bolt missed its target because its target was now halfway across the room, on the ceiling, and hissing like a wild animal.

"Cannot die-willnotcannotdiecannot-PLEASE DON'T LET ME DIE—die-die-die-d–e–a–d—cannot-willnot-cannot ever again—and the Void will come-KILL YOU!" Turbo shrieked, hissing still. His graphics defied _Sugar Rush_'s physics, hair staying the same as it was when he was upright and crown not budging an inch. It was then that Ralph noticed Turbo's hands.

They greatly resembled Turbug's claws, carapace-covered fingers ending in huge black talons that shined like a beetle's shell. They didn't fit in with the rest of him, seeming patched together instead of a seamless idea; perhaps they were a fluke? Perhaps all of Turbo was a fluke?

_This is not his game—was not his game,_ Ralph thought as he watched the Program that was once his friend act like a wild Virus, _so why did he regenerate?_

"Um...Tammy?" Felix tugged on Calhoun's leg-armour to get her attention, "I don't think shootin' at'im's gonna' do you too much good."

Calhoun growled and ran her recessive hand through her hair, "I think I figured that one out at least." Slapping the safety back on, she slung the weapon over her shoulder and growled in frustration. "Why do you think he survived?"

Felix shrugged, watching the Virus warily, "Could be anythin'...maybe this was his game."

"What?" "How so?" Ralph and Calhoun shouted at the same time, both confused and looking for an answer. Felix shook his head and frowned.

"He wrote himself into the code of _Sugar Rush_, right? That made him 'ficially a part of the game because _Turbo Time_ had been unplugged. He was homeless an' he made himself a home. When you or I or Ralph enter here, we aren't in the code but King Can-er...Turbo was. So he regenerated 'cause this's now his game." Felix stared at his feet as he talked, the theory he was proposing somewhat ridiculous.

Calhoun laughed, a short bark of amusement, "Well shoot me full of holes and call me Swiss Cheese, that makes a whole shit-ton of sense."

"So...," Felix hesistated, "What d'we do with him?"

"I say we drag the fucker to _Game Central Station_ and shoot him. He can't regenerate then, can he?" Calhoun's scowl was firmly set, her mouth a grim line of determination. There was no way in _Hero's Duty_ she was going to let Turbo live, even if he wasn't a Virus.

Ralph, on the other hand, was having none of that. "No! We can't just take him to _Game Central Station_ and execute him!" His worry seemed misplaced to Calhoun, and to Felix he seemed more concerned than worried. "First off, if we execute him publicly, we run the risk of ruining our images and concreting the idea that the death penalty is okay. 'Cause it's not by any stretch of the imagination. Second, he's part of _Sugar Rush_and, although you're a good leader, he's out of your jurisdiction. Third, _Sugar Rush_ is a democratic-republic game. Executing as a form of capital punishment isn't really allowed in most democratic-republic nations and games."

"_So..._what do _you_ propose we do then, Wreck-It?" She only used given names when pissed off and boy was she steamed right now. The idea of letting **Turbo, of all people,** off scott-free made her livid at best.

"Well, Mario's got a Doctorate in Virus Removal, right?" Ralph's question was directed at Felix, who started and nodded furiously.

"He doesn't use it too often, but I think he still can do that, why?" It took a moment for the idea to sink into Felix's thick skull, but when it did he gasped in awe, "Oh! Yeah, that might work."

"What might work?" Calhoun had the faintest of glimmers as to what Felix and Ralph's plan was, but she needed the rest.

"We bring Dr. Mario here to fix Turbo and then we allow _Sugar Rush's_ justice system sort'im out," Felix explained giddily. "Vanellope gets to exercise her presidential control, Turbo gets his what-for, an' no one gets hurt! A perfect solution!"

_Solutions are rarely perfect, there is always a flaw._ Calhoun thought darkly, _but there's no reason we can't do this. And if Vanellope says so I can shoot the asshole full of plasma._ She nodded, "Sounds good to me." She almost added 'hon' at the end, but was very conscious of Ralph and the insane Turbo in the room.

"Good. To _Super Mario World_!" Felix exited the room giddily, jumping as he went. Calhoun followed and Ralph lingered behind, shooting Turbo a rather sad look.

Turbo simply fizzled back to the floor and continued to mutter, "Felix I'm sorry-sorry-sorrysorrysorrysorr–r–r–y–I–a–m–s–o–s–o–r–r–y–F–e–l–i–x—I'm so sorry Felix-sosorry-sosorryFelix—I'm so-so-so-so-sorry Felix—sosorryforallthethingsIvedon e—"

7|_||?80 - 74571(

Felix watched worriedly as Ralph trudged on to _Game Central Station_. Something was up with his Bad Guy friend and it made him antsy, "Ralph?"

"Hm?" The giant turned to face his diminutive friend, eyebrows disappearing into his mop of hair, "what'dya want?"

"What's botherin ya, brother?" Felix smiled as brightly as he could fake it, "You know y'can tell me."

Ralph sighed deeply, looking forward at the pissed-off Calhoun and shook his head, "You know I can't talk about Turbo around _her_. She'd flip out!"

Felix shot a look at his **girlfriend**—ooh, he was still giddy about that!—and sighed in defeat, "True. She _would_ have a fit. I s'pose we could be more...uh...discreet?"

Ralph rolled his eyes and nodded softly, "You know how you were around him just then, right? All nervous and unsure of yourself?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you even _remember_ Turbo from before this?" Ralph kneaded his temples wearily, "He was like our big brother and you _loved_ him. Not liked, not even admired, _loved_. And you still do, somewhat."

"What?!" Felix's face was flushed crimson, "I did _not_ like-like Turbo! I liked'im but not like-like." Arms folded across his torso, he huffed, "You're nuts, I remember him."

"Well you did like-like him; so how do you think he's gonna' react when he finds out you got over him? What if Calhoun finds out?" Ralph had a point, if Calhoun found out, she might dump him.

"Well...well I'll just tell her m'self!" Felix was bluffing, badly, "If I tell'er, she'll be more kind?" What should have been a statement was a question.

"Tell me what?" Calhoun towered over the short handyman, a look that was a cross between a scowl and quizzical adorning her face.

Felix **literally** 'Eep'ed, turning a pale white this time, an 8-bit exclamation point screaming its tone above his head. "That...uh...well, I...that is..."

"He had a crush on Turbo before he, y'know, _went Turbo_," Ralph supplemented, waiting for the storm to start.

Calhoun blinked in surprise and then snorted, "Hm...never thought his 'Southern Sensibility' would allow him to catch in the left field..."

Felix was in shock, "Wait, what 'Southern Sensibilities'?!"

Calhoun smiled and placed a hand on Felix's shoulder, bending to be eye-level with him. "Hon," she laughed gently, using her pet-name for him for the first time in public, "You sound like Jimminy Cricket."

"I-I do not sound like that oversized bug! There's no way ya'll should ever think that!" Felix pouted as Calhoun and Ralph laughed.

However, all levity disappeared as they entered Peach's castle, the mission at hand more important than a game of 'no homo'. Calhoun and Felix were greeted politely by a Toad while Ralph was given a wide berth, typical of the treatment of Bad Guys Ralph's size. Stereotyping was that Ralph and other large Bad Guys would, without provocation, attack and kill Good Guys and NPCs because they could.

"Ma'am, we're lookin' for Mario. S'e here?" Felix was addressing a small, yellow Toad who smiled sweetly.

"'Course! He's in the dining room. Third on the left down that hall right there." The Toad pointed down the hallway to their right and then backed out of their way.

"Mario!" Felix shouted when they got close enough, "You in today?!"

"Of-a course! I'm in-a the kitchen!" Mario's stereotypical Italian voice flew out of the door just to their right and they entered to see the plumber making pizza. He waved cordially at everyone—Ralph included—and gestured to the chairs sitting in front of the counter, "So, what can I-a do for you-a today?"

"Do you still have your Doctorate?" Ralph leaned forward as his weight caused the chair to creak horribly.

"Of-a course! What kind-a Doctor would I-a be if I-a didn't still have-a my Doctorate?!" He pulled out a piece of paper and waved it, "Here."

_This Certificate is in honour of Mario receiving a Doctorate in Virus Removal and Prevention._ At the bottom was the official seal of the UAGC, in all of its tin-foil glory.

The University of Arcade Game Characters were not too good at their long-winded documents but their speeches were atrociously huge. Pity they didn't give scholarships to Bad Guys because Ralph would've really loved to get his Masters in Architecture and helped Felix fix things.

Calhoun nodded, slightly perturbed at the complete lack of complex wording and fancy names on Mario's diploma. "We have a Virus we need you to remove," she said, "In _Sugar Rush_, but keep all this on the down-low because if any of the NPCs find out, there will be mass chaos."

Mario blanched, "_Sugar Rush_?! Is it-a Turbo again?"

"Easy guess," Ralph grunted, "but yeah."

Mario shook his head and growled, "That bitch's _bambino_, what a spagetti-a slurping bastard!"

Felix coloured, a little surprised by Mario's foul mouth, "Y'see, that's why we need ya', to cure'im before it gets too bad."

Regaining composure, the beloved video-game icon cleared his throat, "Take me-a to him."

|=1}{-17 |=3|_1}{

Sour Bill was apathetic, most of the time, but now was no time for apathy, his Game was in danger. When the President informed him of their plight and told him to run and get her hero and his friends, he jumped on it faster than you could say "King Candy could care less". He felt a need rise within him that had never surfaced when **King Candy** was in charge, a need to protect what was his. That's why he was in hysterics—or as close as he could get to hysterics—when he arrived in _Fix-It Felix Jr._. His Game and his President were in danger, they were in danger **because of the jerk that took over the Game once before**.

Like Void that was going down like it had before. Like Void his President would be in danger like she was before. And programming be **damned**if that two-bit code-muncher was getting in the Code room again. **Over his disassembled graphics**.

That was why the diminutive hard-candy was patrolling—not pacing—the hallway that lead to the former-Fungeon with a determined look in his eyes. That was why, when Vanellope called him to the Throne Room, he almost refused to leave. Then he remembered her 'execution' joke and how high-strung she was at the moment and went anyways, reluctantly leaving Turbo unguarded.

Vanellope was nervously chewing on her hoodie-strings when Sour Bill arrived, snapping back to focus once her name was called, "You called me?" Sour Bill looked up at his leader, confused.

"Yeah. You 'member the room Turbo used to change the Code?"

"Yeah," he was confused, why did she want to know?

"I need you to take Doctor Mario there so he can work on an anti-Virus." Suddenly Sour Bill noticed the people behind her. Felix looked like he was going to vomit while Calhoun looked angry. Also, while Ralph looked worried more than anything, Mario was calm and collected.

A motley assortment of characters, to be sure.

Sour Bill beckoned Mario, "This way please." The two of them left the Throne Room behind them, traversing the maze of hallways that lead to the Code Room.

"So...this-a 'King Candy'," Mario broke the silence, "He was-a aware of this-a room?"

"Of course," Sour Bill droned, "He used it to change his graphics and everyone's memories as well as trying to delete Vanellope." He glared at the floor, "Why else would he have been able to stay unnoticed for so long?"

"It's just a question," Mario rebuffed, "No need-a to get so irritated."

"I just really don't like stupid questions," Sour Bill countered sullenly.

"Fair enough..." The hallway fell to silence once again as the Good Guy and the NPC shut up to indulge their contemplative thoughts. Then Mario spoke up again, "Do you not-a like him?"

"Who would? He tried to kill our President and plunge our Game into the Void."

Mario shrugged, "Good point. However I'd-a like to point out that the girl called-a Taffyta Muttonfudge liked him when-a he was King Candy. She seemed almost-a enamoured with him."

"That was _before_ we knew he was a conniving, backstabbing son-of-a-black-liquorice. She hates him just like everyone else does. Like she_should_."

The Italian laughed and shook his head, "How do you know-a that?"

"How do I –" Sour Bill gasped at the audacity of his suggestion, "how do _you_ know she does?!"

"I don't," Mario stated plainly, "but neither-a do you."

Infuriated, Sour Bill slammed the door to the Code Room hallway open, "_We're here._" As the plumber walked up to the SNES-controller vault door, Sour Bill spoke up again, "It's the Konami Code."

↑↑↓↓←→←→B A START. Once the code was entered, the door opened and revealed the Code of _Sugar Rush_ in all its flowing-blue glory. Mario was in awe, sure he had beaten Viruses before but never before had he seen the actual Code of a game. In _Dr. Mario_, the viruses were just **there**. He didn't have to go searching for them nor did he ever see a Game's Code. It was unnerving and yet...he could do it, couldn't he?

_Just-a calm down, Mario. Think of this-a just like your Game, _Dr. Mario_ only...without-a the falling pills and cutesy little-a viruses with squiggly faces._ Steeling himself, he wrapped a rope around his waist and handed the other end to Sour Bill, _Now, diagnosis time. Make Mamá proud, do this-a as well as you can and-a save _Sugar Rush_ from a horrible descent into-a the Void. No pressure! _Even his inner-voice was freaking out, showing how unstable he really was feeling right now.

Regardless of his fears, the Nintendo Good Guy stepped into the Code Room and floated in, praying to Edison that Sour Bill wouldn't let go of his tether.


	2. Dr Mario's Diagnosis

**(A/N: Thank you for the positive introduction! I really appreciate that. This chapter is where some of the 'M' rating comes from...language. Also plot. And Turbo is an asshole (which is ****_way_**** more fun than it should be!).)**

Vanellope stared at the white-chocolate walls of the Presidential castle, her mind racing furiously. _Why Turbo? Why now? What could I have to done to have angered Edison?_ She was not a particularly religious Program, but sometimes she needed a good romp around the old Book of Pong for some answers. Sure, the Void was real, but there was no way Edison really watched her and made sure she was safe. Otherwise, he wouldn't have let her been bullied like she had been. If Edison really was there, he wouldn't have let Turbo do what he did, so he must not exist, but just in case: _Dear Edison, Bringer of Light and Defeater of the Void, bestow upon me your wisdom so that I may have insight into the menial issues of my life. Please allow me the clarity to make proper decisions that will lead to prosperity for my Game. Bink._

"Never took you for the religious type." Vanellope looked up to see Calhoun towering over her, a smirk set in place on her lips. "Looks like I was wrong. Some 'hail Lightbulb' thing you're doing there?"

"Naw, just making some on-the-spot pleas. And you were right," the little girl stood up and dusted off her green hoodie nonchalantly, "I'm not religious. Just open-minded." She shrugged dismissively and 'meh'ed, "Maybe Edison's really watching us and maybe not. You never know!"

Calhoun snorted, "And thusly, those of the Void were struck down and purified by His Light. The screams of the Great Darkness were heard for centuries after as Edison, Bringer of Light, locked it away in the farthest reaches of Earth's Code. 'Now,' He declared, 'it shall bother us no longer and we will prosper!'"

Vanellope giggled insanely, "You _know_ that by heart?"

The older woman pursed her lips in amusement, "My Programmers were extra-religious so they added that to my Code. It just means I'm well-versed in the lore of the Book of Pong."

"Hm..." Vanellope looked at the hallway leading to the dungeon and furrowed her brows, "Why do you think Felix and Ralph are down there with him?"

The sergeant shrugged, "Who knows. They supposedly knew Turbo before the whole _going Turbo_ incident so maybe they're just trying to figure their old friend out." She stared down the hallway as well and then, hearing an unidentified sound, turned around with her pistol at the ready. "Who's there?! Show yourself you coward!"

"Mamá-Mia! Calm down miss-a Calhoun! It's-a me, Mario!" The frightened voice of the beloved icon emitted from the stairwell, echoing as it bounced off the marble-fudge stairs.

"And me..." Sour Bill added slowly, "Everyone seems to forget the supportive NPC..."

"Baww! I would _never_ forget you, ya' sour lil' guy!" Vanellope called out as she glitched to where he was and swooped him up in a gummy-bear hug. His floating hands and feet waved around until she put the poor thing down.

"Diagnosis Doctor?" Calhoun snapped at Mario when he reached the apex of the stairwell. "What's the damage report and how the Void are we going to fix this kerfuffle?"

Mario stuck his hands in his overall pockets and grinned nervously, "Heh...well, there's good news and-a bad news."

"Just give me the damn news!" Calhoun was in no mood for pussyfooting around a subject.

"I found-a the problem and I think I can-a fix it," Mario said as he scuffed at the floor with his worn work-boot.

"_And?_" He was stalling, there was always an 'and' to talks that started like that. "Out with it!"

"Well...Turbo...he wrote himself into the code-a and that's what allowed him to-a regenerate here without issues. But there's a slight-a problem. His...," Mario searched for the right way to word what he was about to say without setting off the blonde bob-ombshell—oh how he wished he wasn't committed to Princess Peach right now because that woman was fierce in all the right ways—off for a Troja-raising tirade. "There is-a Void infecting his Code and...he is mutating."

"Mutating?!" Vanellope shrieked, her form flickering blue and moving an inch to the right. "Like the Cy-bug mutation from 'fore or worse?"

"He is mutating-a into a full-blown Virus. He's-a turning into a Worm." Mario closed his eyes, flinching and waiting for the blows to rain down upon his head. When none came, he looked up and noticed that Calhoun looked more **scared** than absolutely furious.

"There better be some more good news to come along with that _lovely_ notice you gave us or else _I swear I will strangle you with your own overall straps_." Calhoun was serious, so **very** serious.

"I...I have a pill that-a can delay the effects of the transmutation-a into a Worm while I work on-a his code." Mario waved a small water-soluble capsule the colour the castle had been before Vanellope remodelled and stripped the fondant from the walls. Pink—or as **King Candy** would've called it—salmon.

Calhoun snatched the small man by his collar and glared intensely, "Then you'd better get that pill to Turbo _ASAP_ Doctor." Mario nodded and dashed off as fast as he could when she put him back to the floor. Calhoun and Vanellope following, wondering exactly **what** was going to happen next.

She hoped it would be for the better.

_Edison, please let Ralph be okay. And let my Game be okay too..._

|)|?. /\/\4|?10

Ralph was sitting on the floor of the dungeon cell they had Turbo in, his back against the door and his eyes watching the ever-flickering form of Turbo. The Virus-infected Program kept looking back and forth between Ralph and Felix, his voice low and hurried. Every-so-often Ralph would catch a small hint of what sounded like something from the Book of Pong and it made him worry. The Turbo he knew refused to believe in the 'hogwash of the System', as he called it.

Then again, the Turbo he knew would have never tried to kill him, or Vanellope.

"Ralph," Felix began, breaking the revered silence, "Why d'you think he's like that...this? What'dyou think made him _go Turbo_?" The Good Guy could think of no other way to word his question.

Ralph was silent for quite some time before he answered, "I don't understand...why he's like this...I—" He choked, a pained expression dominating his large visage before he regained composure, "I think something's wrong with him..."

"I'd hafta' agree with you on this'un. I have no clue as to why he flipped out either. Something just seemed...off about the whole thing." Felix wearily kept one eye on Turbo while he talked, something not too common for the little handy-man. He was rarely, if ever, wary of anyone.

Ralph opened his mouth to say something just as Vanellope glitched through the walls of the dungeon, a huge grin on her face, "Mario's on his way with a booster. Just letting ya' know!" Then the little ruler glitched right back out, never letting her eyes wander from Turbo while she was there.

"Mario's got a booster? Huh," Felix commented, "why not an anti-virus?"

Ralph shrugged in response, "Not sure. Maybe it's a precaution?"

"Not necessarily, ham-hands," Calhoun's commanding drill-sergeant voice cut through the thick atmosphere if dread as she entered the small room, Mario timidly walking behind her. "Tell them," she commanded Mario, who swallowed nervously and shuffled forward.

"The, uh, booster is a way to keep-a the mutation from-a accelerating at an unnatural rate." Mario looked sheepishly at Turbo, who was muttering at an advanced pace, words blurring together.

"TheVoidwasangry-angry-angry-angrysoangryitwas-angrysoangryitwasfurious—and it said-itsaiditsaiditsaid-thoushaltbe my prophetmyvassal and there will bedestructionsomuchdestructi on and the Lightwillvanishunderourcruel gaze-ourgaze-our–gaze–will–bring–forth–hidden–lies–hiddenlieshidingfromtheLight —EdisonbringerofLight—hold me close andneverletmego—KILLYOU—follow me Programs, I'll lead you astray—" Turbo's form flickered red and Void as his limbs twitched and spasmed. The look on his face was one of hope mixed with fear as he shrank back in his corner and stared at the Programs in his dungeon. His Fungeon.

It just wasn't fair, that Glitch getting everything he worked so hard for. The little brat.

"What mutation?" Ralph asked incredulously, "What do you mean?"

"Well, Turbo's-a code is mutating into a full-blown-a Virus. A Worm, to be-a precise." The Italian looked at the floor nervously, "In about a week-a he'll be mutated-a completely. If it's-a dampened by the booster I'm-a gonna' give him, I'll have more time to-a work on de-bugging his Code-a."

"Sweet Mother Hubbard...," Ralph was unsure of what to say right then, the news blindsiding him. Turbo was becoming a Worm? Worms were worse news than Trojans, or even a regular Virus, because Worms will devour everything in a Game and move on, very much like the Cy-bugs.

"How much time will it take to develop an anti-virus?" Felix asked, his voice hard and his stance tense.

"One-a week," Mario said softly. Everyone relaxed except for Calhoun, "Minimum. At-a most it will take-a me a full month to get rid of-a the mutations."

Silence reigned supreme, broken only by Turbo's muttering, now louder and slightly excited-sounding. "The Void-the-Void-Void-Void-Void-Void-d-d-d-d—a virus?—fix-fix-fix-fix-fix-it-Felix—Wreck-It Ralph?—T-T-T-T-T-Tamorajeancalhoun-Sergeant Tamorajeancalhoun—Mario? you grubby little—G-g-g-g-glitch!—heroes do the right thing—KILL YOU—Void will-KILL YOU—"

Finally the reigning quiet was shattered by Felix's soft Southern cadence, "The arcade closes for th' weekend 'cause of Litwak's birthday."

Ralph's eyes widened and he nodded, "Yeah! So you'll have more time to work on the anti-virus!"

Mario smiled as well, "Ya-HOO! It's-a plan then! I'll be-a back tomorrow night!" Then the stout man hopped off, a large smile on his face. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to be okay.

Meanwhile, Ralph, Felix, Calhoun, Vanellope, and Sour Bill huddled outside Turbo's dungeon room, holding a whispered discussion. "So what do we do with him now? The Virus makes him only able to speak through sound bytes from the past so what'll happen when the booster kicks in?"

Calhoun nodded in agreement with Ralph's statement and opened her mouth to answer his question when she was interrupted by a loud call from inside the cell. "Hello? Is anyone there? I-I know someone's here, somewhere! Could you – could you bring me a candle or something? It's dark in here." The voice's faint lisp prevailed, echoing in the cavernous hallway.

Ralph stiffened, his eyes widening and his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. His huge hand reached shakily for the door latch, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall, "Turbo?" His voice was shaky and unsure, as if he was terrified it was a dream.

"Yes? Is that you, Ralph?!" Turbo's called from the depths of the dungeon, timid, as if he would be punished just for speaking. "I—" he trailed off, an uncomfortable silence filling up the rooms. Timidly, Ralph opened the door and came face-to-face with a grinning Turbo, cruelty eking from his pores. "—can't believe you fell for that!" The paunchy ex-racer cackled and rolled around on the floor, mirthful tears streaming down his face. "Oh, good grief Wreck-It! I thought you were smarter than that! Looks like I was wrong, meat-head! Oo-hoo-hoo!" Plopping his butt on the floor, the Virus-infected Program glitched, moving a foot to the left.

"_This_ is the Turbo you _grew up with_?" Calhoun was stunned, Turbo was a complete **child**! Whereas Ralph enjoyed the occasional whoopee-cushion and Felix was all-for the once-every-blue-moon "GOTCHA!" joke, Turbo didn't seem to fit in well with their beliefs on what was funny and what wasn't.

"Yeah...he liked'is jokes, Turbo did. Not too funny, now that I'm thinkin' back on'em." Felix stared at his absolutely **horrified** Bad Guy, waiting for Mt. St. Helens to blow up.

What no one expected was for the large man to start crying.

"Awww, does the widdle baby boy need a diapy change?" Turbo asked the sobbing Ralph, "Sweet Throttle Wreck-It, get a _grip!_" The ex-dictator was rather surprised when he was suddenly kicked in the testicles by an irked nine-year-old.

"You...you _ASSHOLE!_"

Calhoun raised her hands defensively, "I didn't teach her that!"

"You made Ralph _cry_! You cock-sucking, fuck-nugget! I ougta've just let you _ROT_ in that cell!" Vanellope's entire body was shaking, visible skin a frosting pink. Grabbing ahold of Ralph's neck, wrapping her entire arms around it just to get a grip, she nuzzled the giant protectively. Then she turned back to face her, for lack of a better term, _nemesis_. "You're s'pota be his friend...he was worried about you."

Turbo stepped back for a second and then smirked, "He's a big boy. He'll get over it. Won'tcha clumsy?" Moving back to taunt Ralph, he was met by Felix's furious face. "Greetings, Fix-It! How'sit going over in," his cordial hello was broken by a snicker, "_Nice_land?"

"Very fine, thank you!" Felix's reply was clipped, his emotions in a rare turmoil. How **dare** Turbo do something like that?! Did he have **any** idea how bad him _going Turbo_ had hurt the older Programs, let alone him and Ralph? No, he didn't. "But _you've_ got some sp'laining t'do."

Turbo's expression flattened to annoyance, "I don't have to do _shit_ little man." His eyes were almost slits now, the joviality in his voice missing, replaced with steely cold.

Calhoun was unaffected by the racer's change in personality, slowly unholstering her weapon and aiming it at the asshole's forehead, "You _do_ have to explain exactly why the fuck you did what you did, you little shitstain." Completely ignoring the fact that Vanellope, age nine, was just across from her in the room, she snarled curses at the racer. "Because, _believe it or not_, Felix and Ralph _cared_ about you. To them, you're still their_friend_, and I'll be _damned_ if I let them get hurt."

Turbo leered, a red glitch shooting up his body, "_Oh, I'm so scared!_ Look at me shaking in my fucking shoes." Scoffing, the ex-dictator turned away from Calhoun, a mistake he should have never made.

A single plasma bolt shot centimetres away from his head, searing some of his hair off and causing him to glitch in surprise. "_That was a warning._Now, try again asshole."

Turbo stared for a few minutes and then laughed. It started as a chuckle and flew into a full-blown cackle. "I remember you! They _hate_ you! _Ah-ha-ha-ha!_ You _kill them for fun!_ They fucking _hate your guts!_" The pudgy man's face was filled with insane glee as he recounted the Cy-bug's feelings on Calhoun. "You're Sergeant-fucking-Calhoun! They call you Death, they call you Void-bringer! You're a damn _legend_ to them! Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo!"

Felix couldn't bring himself to face the **thing** his friend had become, the madman that took over what was once a kind individual. It just wasn't plausible, this monster being his friend any more. How could he be so cruel?

Turbo's laughing filled the room for a long while, the only noise to be heard among the group of heroes; then someone spoke up, shattering the tension.

"Shut up." Ralph's voice was hard and cold, hurt and angry, as he stood up to face the racer. He was done, he was **done** with him! "Shut the Void up! Don't you _dare_ speak to the Sergeant that way, you have no damn _right_ to speak to her—or anyone—in that way you stubby little asshole."

Turbo, along with everyone short of Vanellope, looked taken aback at the gentle giant's change in emotions. "But _Ralphie_, I'm _Turbo_, your _friend_!"

"Like Void you are," Ralph got in close proximity with Turbo, large finger nearly touching his snub nose. "Turbo was a kind, childish guy, not some two-bit asshole who likes to mess with people's feelings. _Turbo_ wouldn't try and kill a _nine-year old girl_, let alone be a complete ass like this_thing_ in front of me. _You_ are a little _shit_! _You_ are a _monster_, not my friend. _You. Are. Not. Turbo._" Each emphasised word was accompanied by a not-so-gentle thump on the chest, sending the small man reeling backwards. "So _shut your damn mouth about Turbo_."

Everyone watched in shocked silence as Ralph stormed from the room, cracking the peanut brittle door on his way out.

Finally, Vanellope broke the ice, "I'm out." She glitched out, form flickering into a spray of blue binary, disappearing in a flash.

Stagnant air and unasked questions clogged the atmosphere of the cell as Felix and Calhoun uncomfortably glared at Turbo. Then Calhoun growled, "Look, the arcade's opening soon so I've got to be back in _Hero's Duty_. You can handle yourself, right hon?"

"Yeah, I'll be dandy on m'own. I'll be leavin'' soon anyway," Felix blushed, "honey glow" spreading across his cheeks, and bounced up to kiss her on the lips.

"See you later!" Calhoun saluted, "Don't fucking try _anything_ you shitbag." Then, warning given, she walked out of the room, her hips swaying in that way that made Felix drool.

The handyman turned to face his old friend with sorrow in his eyes, his heart heavy. "I don't know what made y'change the way you did but...I miss th'Turbo I knew." Then he, too, exited the cell, leaving Turbo alone with his thoughts.

The Virus-infected program glitched, his face unreadable. "The Void was angry, so angry it was furious, and it said 'Thou shalt be my prophet, my vassal and there will be destruction, so much destruction and the Light will vanish under our cruel gaze. Our gaze will bring forth hidden lies, hiding from the Light, and show them to His followers. There will be devastation and He will cry out for we will win and all Light will disappear from this Game.'" His eyes turned, void of emotion, to the bars of his cell and he watched the sun rise. _If only things had been different, we would still be friends..._


	3. Turbroken

**(A/N: Again, asshole!Turbo is waaaaaay more fun than he should be. And I delve into the pallet-swaps in Sugar Rush! They were fun too...**

**My headcanon about them is this:**  
**Nougetsia: Timid and artistic. Doesn't like yelling or conflict, but manages to be in the middle of it anyways—usually as the mediator.**  
**Sticky: Sarcastic and jaded. She doesn't HATE the constant racers for them not racing, she just wishes life would be more fair—and knows it isn't.**  
**Torvald: Tomboy and touchy. She has a hair-trigger temper and the strength and skill to back it up. Doesn't like Citrusella at all.**  
**Citrusella: Childish and girly. The exact opposite of Torvald, she has the tongue to put Taffyta to shame.**

**TL;DR if you want. :/)**

Sour Bill had been assigned "Turbo Watch" while Vanellope was racing because "I said so and that's final!" It was annoying as crap; mostly because Turbo was blabbering incessantly like a madman, faint lisp tickling at his last (and only) nerve.

"Hey! Sour Bill! Heeeeeyyyy!" A rattling sound woke Sour Bill from his reverent period of silence, jolting him to immediate irritation—though it never showed on his face.

"What?" The presidential assistant groaned, the rattling getting louder. Blast him and the cart he rode in on.

"What would you do if someone knew something that could potentially harm _Sugar Rush_?" Turbo stopped dragging his claws against the bars of his door's window, peeking through the window and staring at Sour Bill, straining on his tip-toes.

"If it's you, nothing. No one trusts a liar, not twice anyways..." Sour Bill turned away from him, the sight of his face just made him sick.

"But, Sour Bill! Sour Bill! Hey!" Turbo shouted, catching the bars and clawing away at the outlying peanut brittle. When he finally got the assistant's (annoyed as crap) attention, he cracked a grin. "What if I told you the whole arcade was in danger?"

"Why?" His curiosity was piqued, why would the whole arcade be in danger?

Turbo's mouth opened for a minute, just hanging there ajar, until he started to laugh suddenly. "_Ooh-hoo-hoo!_ From idiots like you who never learn! I mean, seriously; how many times are you going to think that I'm actually going to tell you anything worth your time until you realise I'm_not_?! You are such a fucking idiot, _Thour Bill!_" Then, a cruel sneer set on his face, he glitched back to a sitting position on his cell floor and waited, listening smugly to Sour Bill call him anything but a child of Edison.

94/\/\3-71/\/\3 47 |_457

Vanellope had been voted in this round, along with Rancis Flugenbutter, Crumbelina DiCarmello, Swizzle "The Swizz" Malarkey, Jubilena Bing-Bing, Gloyd Orangeboar, Snowanna Rainbeu, and Adorabeezle Winterpop. Taffyta Muttonfudge had ticked off enough people with yesterday's races, Minty Zaki was opting out, and Candlehead was voted out as well because of her affiliation with Taffyta. The rest of the racers were pallet-swaps and usually didn't want to race anyway. At least, that's what the other racers liked to think, so they "didn't matter".

Citrusella Flugpucker, Torvald Batterbutter, Nougetsia Brumblestain, and Sticky Wipplesnit thought otherwise.

"It's not fair!" Citrusella stomped a booted foot on the spun-sugar grass in Marshmallow Meadows, squishing a small Peep.

"Oh joy," Sticky rolled her eyes and groaned, "What's not fair Citrus?" She very well knew the answer, mind you, just knew that attempting to placate the blue Jubileena Bing-Bing pallet-swap would only escalate matters. The four of them had been in this very situation before.

"We're not in the Roster voting process! Even though we get no votes against us, they still won't let us race! They let the top nine, _short of us_, race anyway! It's just! Not! _Fair_!"

Torvald sighed and looked over to her pallet-sister with scorn, "Yeah, why don't they let us race, Sticky? You _always have the answers_."

Sticky bristled, "Hey! Just because I don't mope and whine about not getting to race doesn't mean I don't want to race! I want this as much as you guys do, so _shut up_!"

Their squabbling escalated as the first Player race started, the cars whizzing by on the top of Gumball Gorge. There was pulled hair and bit fingers, name calling and dirt eating, and even some degrading comments made about their colour pallet that stung a little too much for words.

"Hey, _Citrusella_, wanna' tell me why the Programmers decided to make you _blue_?! I don't know any citrus fruits that are blue!"

"Well why don't you tell me why your pallet is brown and orange when Minty Zaki's was green?! Are you a _rotten_ apple Torvald?!"

"What kind of apple is teal anyway, _Sticky_? And what the Void is a Wipplesnit?! A disease?"

"Sure, like Batterbutter is any better?! Like that makes any sense!"

"At least my name is made of _real words_!"

"Oy! Flugpucker sounds _just_ as unappetising as Wipplesnit, if not _worse_!"

"_**NOUGETSIA, WHAT DO YOU THINK?!**_"

Their sudden cry in unison startled the timid, pink Adorabeezle Winterpop pallet-swap. Her eyes squinted shut for a second, and then she shouted in the loudest voice she could muster. "I think that, instead of bickering among each other, we should bring it up with President Vanellope after-hours. Maybe she'll understand and we can move on with our lives."

Satisfied with this, Nougatsia went back to watching the race with her Bottle-Cap binoculars, tracking the motion of the ones in front. Then, a sudden movement caught her eyes and she gasped. A loud scream echoed from the stands over by the Jumbo-tron and the other three pallet-swaps stood up and rushed over to Nougetsia to see what was the matter. After the binoculars had been passed around, Sticky voiced what they all had been thinking.

"We need to go help."

|?34|_ \/\/0|?|_|) 155|_|35

Molly Heartsfield, better known as "Moppet Girl" by the patrons of the arcade she frequented, finally managed to get her hands on the steering-wheel of _Sugar Rush_ for the first time in five months since Vanellope had been unlocked.. Cracking her knuckles, she deposited her fifty cents into the slot and was brought to the character selection screen.

"Hmm," she murmured quietly to herself, "I haven't had a chance to try out Vanellope yet. I heard that she can teleport. That should be fun." When she selected the small pixie, Vanellope squealed and waved at her. "Hi to you too, friend." Then, realising that she would have to unlock harder courses, she begrudgingly picked Gumball Gorge, the hardest course that was available. Confidant in her abilities, she floored the accelerator as the announcer hit the number "2", and darted out of the finish line.

Thankfully, the controls didn't differ from _Cruising the USA_'s, and weren't too much like _Turbo Time_'s because she sucked _royally_ at driving poor Turbo around in a circle, and admittedly was glad when Mr. Litwak had to put ol' Turbo down—though she would never admit it to her friends, who were mortified that the cabinet had broken down.

She popped the clutch back to first gear and slammed on the brake, drifting around a corner and grabbing a Sugar Cube. After she recovered from the turn, Molly clocked the car back up to fifth and threw back a large dollop of Ice Cream A La Mode at Crumbelina, who was right behind her in third. Then she focused her attention on beating Rancis, who was currently in first place.

She hit a boost and jumped a ramp to finally catch up to him, passing several carts who attempted to overrun her and got crushed by a gum ball. Looking gleefully at the screen, she noticed something off, Rancis' character model rippled with a streak of red for just an instant. Then, Vanellope teleported in front to make first at the finish line and the weird flicker was forgotten.

"Must've been an optical illusion...," Molly said quietly as Vanellope gloated with her trophy, the other racers seeming to take it good-naturedly.

"Hey Moppet Girl!" Another of the regular patrons, a thirteen year old asshole, jeered her. He laughed as he passed by her, "When're you gonna realise that old ladies like you don't belong here?!"

"When you realise that DDR just isn't your thing, hon." Molly's retort was quick and practised. Granted, she was fifteen—though she didn't look it—and probably should grow up and leave the arcade, but _Litwak's Family Fun Center_ was an integral part of her childhood! She could never forget it!

Besides, she worked there now, and playing the games was a perk.

She ran a few more races, finally unlocking the Royal Raceway before Litwak called her back to her post. Throughout the entire run of her playing, never again did she see Rancis, let alone see him flicker.

It's almost as if he was removed from the race...

\/1|?|_|535

Sour Bill had _had it_! All day long, on and off, that insane bastard had been alternating between sincere-sounding inquiries about the Game's well-being and mad cackling mixed with rude language and insults. He was on his last legs and the day had almost ended; if Vanellope didn't get here soon, she was going to have a very _dead_ Virus on her hands.

"_Darkness encroaches, the Light goes away as Edison's Prophecy quavers. Follow me Programs, I'll lead you astray. Back to your "master" and "saviour"._" Turbo was singing _the Void's Lullaby_ for the fifteenth time in a row, but the last four he had stopped to try and explain _something_ and had broken off in a mad tangent. "_Soon you will find, It's inside your mind: the Void that devours us all. Trojans, and Worms, Programs don't learn; Pride comes before the fall..._"

He broke away the haunting tune for a minute, head cocking as heavy footsteps stomped down the dungeon stairs. Poking his head up to the barred window in his door, Turbo grinned widely. "Looks like she's ba~ack!"

Vanellope glitched through the door, snagging the four-two ex-racer by the collar of his jumpsuit and hoisted him into the air, much to Sour Bill's surprise. Her face was set in a grim snarl, hazel eyes glinting with mad intent. "_What did you do?_"

"What _did_ I do, Glitch? You're the smart one here, not me obviously." He gestured around to his cell, pointing out that someone "smart" wouldn't be in a dungeon cell.

Vanellope was having none of his shit.

She glitched into the air and threw him down, catching him inches from a fatal demise, then glitched him half-into the wall. "_Talk,_" she shrieked hysterically, "Tell me _what you did to Rancis_!"

Turbo wriggled in his prison-wall-stocks, oddly comfortable with being part of the décor. A smug smile overtook his features, his snub nose wrinkling up as yellow teeth flashed in the dim light. "Oh, Fluggenbutter, huh? Ooh-hoo-hoo! What a useless, primping, peacock. Always messing with his hair and trying to look 'perfect' when he knew very well he wouldn't ever look as good as he wanted to; that his goal was a futile waste of time. None of you girls would ever love him! Fuck him, yeah, but—"

He was suddenly cut off as a boot slammed into his throat, causing his trachea to constrict and cut off his rant. "_Cut the shit, little man, or so help me I will fucking leave you to the Glitches in Kandy Kein forest by chaining you to a rock and letting them pick out your liver..._" Vanellope was fury, she was righteous anger, and she was **pissed**. One of her racers was glitching right after a Virus-riddled Program came back from the dead; there was no way that was coincidence!

"Did one of your chi-chi-chicks get hhhhhhurt Mamamamamamamamahen?!" Turbo flickered and spasmed, red coursing through his body in waves. The grin on his face was even more disturbing to behold when it blurred because of graphics issues. "Never mind-nevermindthat I felt the felt the felt the same waaaay thatyoudoatthistime-that you do at this time: ov-v-v-v-v-ver protective." His audio pitched and he squeaked at 780dB, crackling static covered up half of the spectrum, reducing it to 24-bit in Mono.

"Bullshit," Vanellope kicked Turbo's head, causing him to smack against the wall with a loud **'CRACK'**, and yet it still made her mad to look at him. 'Failure' his existence whispered to her, 'You failed to protect them.'

"Sssssso-o-o-o-o-opathetic, you're so pathetic-tic-tic-tic! Can't even stoppppppp a VVVVVVVVVirrrrrrus like mememememememememe! Nowwhat-now what are you going to do? B-b-b-b-beat me to death—beatmetodeath?" Turbo was mostly red-Void glitches now, his graphics scrambling in a mad race between King Candy, Turbo, and the cybug-Turbo. "I _did_ care-didcareatonepoint for those _brats_ you call 'friends'. Pity it didn'tlasttoolong..."

Vanellope reared back to hit Turbo again when Sour Bill's stubby hand wrapped around her arm, halting its process. "Enough."

"You're picking _his_ side?! After what he _did_?!" Her face twisted, contorting in on itself in fury. How **dare** he! How **dare** that insubordinate Warhead ignore her, his **superior**?!

"I'm not picking sides," Sour Bill was calm, collected, monotonous as usual, "if anyone should hate this jerk, it should be me; I suffered more at his hands than anyone did, even you. I still don't think beating him up would be a good idea. We still need an antivirus, even if only to cure Rancis."

Tears poured down her cheeks, pooling in the hollow of her throat and spilling over to soak her hoodie. She rubbed at her eyes furiously and sat down, wailing like the child she was.

"I'm just so _scared_!" Sour Bill sat next to her and soothingly rubbed her back—like he used to do for "King Candy" whenever he had nightmares. "They expect so _much_ from me and-and sometimes I'm afraid that if I don't, they'll hate me again!"

_Those are rational fears,_ thought Sour Bill as he comforted his president, _and that's what scares me. No one her age, ten years older because of Game-lifespan or otherwise, should have to be afraid of those things. She should be more worried about what kind of taffy streamers she wanted at her birthday party, not whether or not her Game would be unplugged because of some _asshole_ returning from the dead! It's just too much for her..._

"Why don't you go ghost-race against Taffyta's time. I'll wait on Dr. Mario and the others right here." She nodded and stood up, wiping snot from her nose with a loud '**SNERK**'. "But first," the presidential assistant added, "Get him out of the wall."

Vanellope reached over and a blue flicker rolled up her arm, dislodging Turbo from his prison-within-a-prison. The ex-dictator gave a loud**'Oof!'** as red-Void fizzled across his visage. He teleported—and neither Vanellope nor Sour Bill was able to tell if it was intentional or not—to the ceiling and hung there, gibbering and staticky. Vanellope, now getting more over her crying jag as time passed on, grinned flashily—like herself—at Sour Bill and, giving a jaunty salute, glitched out of the room to Time Trial against Taffyta's personal record.

Sour Bill dusted himself off and looked wearily at Turbo, a grim cloud placing itself over the assistant's head. "I _didn't_ choose sides. I just think she should be able to act like she's nine. You ruined that...Fool Candy..." And the Warhead left the room, leaving behind Turbo and a lot of unanswered questions.

"Whhhhhooo izzz_kchht_ 'Fool C-c-c-c-candy'?" Turbo asked the silence. "I ccccertainly am n-n-n-no fool."


	4. Fools and Kings pt1

**(A/N: Originally this was going to be one chapter, but I felt the layered exposition coming from Turbo and [REDACTED] would make "Fools and Kings" too much to handle; therefore it became a two-parter. Hopefully you're starting to see the plot begin to unfold...and maybe even some of the possible nightmare-fuel. And more than likely you've figured out that *SPOILER* Ralph's mouth is responsible for Vanellope's lovely onslaught of language in chapters two and three.**

**On a side note, I mya edit the nightmare-fuel scenes for this site and its specifications because AO3 will allow someof the things I want to put in for effect in. FFN will not due to trigger-sensitive nature witch will definitely include rape, gore and language, and will probably include disturbing images. That is all.)**

Torvald pulled Rancis' hat off her head and sighed, being Rancis Fluggerbutter's stand-in was hard! Who knew actually being _on the Roster_ would be so draining?!

"At least you raced," Sticky snorted. Torvald whipped around to face her pallet-sister and grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'I bet Citrusella is having a Cow-Tail right now...' "Don't look so surprised to see me, _someone_ was bound to watch you race. I was in the 'Assorted Fans' box."

"P'rolly in the 'with nuts' section...," Torvald pulled Rancis' clothes off piece-by-piece, trying not to flash Sticky.

"At least I wasn't sulking, like Citrusella, or watching from afar like Nougetsia. I had the common courtesy to come and _actually, in person_, watch you. You're frickin' welcome!" Irritated with her friend's response to her kindness, Sticky turned away, ready to walk back to Marshmallowy Meadows when she felt someone snag her shoulder. She glanced back over her shoulder at Torvald, who was hanging on to her for dear life.

"I'm sorry...," Torvald barked out, "It's a lot harder than I thought, and Rancis' car doesn't handle like Standard-3 does."

"I would assume," Sticky nodded in agreement, "You kept flying off the track whenever you turned. It has terrible handling. And the drift is awful."

"Plus," a smile split Torvald's face, bright as a Lemon Head, "it just takes off too fast for my liking."

"Yeah, I would be nervous too if my car shot off the start line like a bullet." The two girls hooked arms as they sat down on the marble-cake racetrack. There was a long stretch of silence as they watched cotton candy clouds float by in the shapes of small animals and the other racers. After a while, Sticky turned to look at her pallet-sister, concern in her eyes. "Was it fun?"

"Loads!" Torvald's answer was without hesitation, chipper and truthful. "I mean, yeah, I've always dreamed of this and, sure, I came in last every time; but it was so cool to be _on screen_ and it was even _cooler_ to see the track just fly by! It was like I've always dreamed it only on a sugar rush!" She giggled giddily, flinging her arms out wide and falling back on the moist cake surface.

"That cool, huh?" Sticky had to try her hardest not lo sound sad; she was happy for Torvald, and insanely jealous at the same time.

"Mmhmm..."

Sticky stared at a particularly pink cloud that looked like a gummy bear and frowned, "We should talk to Vanellope about getting us on the Roster. Technically we qualify!"

Torvald shot upright, completely serious, "Yeah! We should totally talk to the president about this! We _deserve_ to be on the Roster as much as any of the other racers do!"

"We should do it now!" Torvald nodded in affirmation and stood up with a **"SPROING"**ing noise. "C'mon Sticky! Let's go! I've got to drop off Rancis' cart anyway, so two chocolate birds with one piece of rock candy!" The two of them hopped in their carts and sped off to the castle, hopes high.

5|_||?63 9|?073(73|?

Ralph trudged beside Felix and Calhoun as the walked through _Game Central Station_, passing Program after Program on their daily pilgrimage to _Sugar Rush_. Mario had skipped ahead of them to begin his work on Turbo's Code, leaving the three of them to their own devices for a little while; at least, until they reached their destination. Then they would be back in "serious mode", ready for any shenanigans Turbo had planned.

Ralph's eyes were downcast as he walked, worriedly thinking about Turbo. _What __**happened**__ to him?! Where's the Turbo who loved to go get shit-faced at __**Tapper's**__? Who loved to play practical jokes on Throttle and Torque? Who knew all the dirtiest jokes and the juiciest gossip about the latest Power Play couples? Who knew the value of just watching the pixillated clouds pass by in the __**#3BB9**__ sky? Who never once rebuffed my attention...or my affections? Where is __**that**__ Turbo?_

_"So I heard Lara Croft is getting jiggy with M. Bison recently!"_

"So, 'parrently M. Bison is gonna' fight as the reignin' champion for the Arcade Open this weekend."

_"Oh really? Why is he interested in her anyway?"_

"Uh-huh? So he's still winning that?"

_"It's her boobs. Those gazoongas have the ability to make anyone go gaga for her. Plus, have you seen her carriage lately?"_

"Not really. They usually have'im in an honorary position. Kinda' like th' way Tapper monitors all of the bi-annual food-related contests."

_"Fair point. Lara Croft does work that curvaceous figure perfectly. She has most of the arcade under her spell. Short of you, that is."_

"Oh...hey! Isn't Vanellope's Open-Invitational Grand Prix this weekend? Doesn't that conflict with the whole 'Turbo' issue?"

_"Did you just call me short?! I am __**not**__ short! You're just freakishly tall, ya big galoot!"_

"Ralph, what'dya think? Raaalppph? Anyone home?" Felix tapped the side of Ralph's head, jolting him out if his reverie. The large man's fist almost connected with the handyman's chest, but stopped mere inches away by force of sheer willpower.

"_What_ Felix? What was so _damn_ important that you had to scare the _piss_ outta me?!" Teeth clenched shut as he growled, entire body a coiled spring, ready to release tension and unleash devastating force on the nearest unsuspecting passerby.

Felix coloured a deep scarlet and tugged the brim of his cap over his eyes, "Golly...didn't mean to scare ya'. Just wanted to know if you thought Turbo would conflict with th' Open-Invite Grand Prix in _Sugar Rush_ this weekend?"

Ralph calmed down like he had been taught to by Mr. Wiggles, deep breaths in and out until the red haze in his head faded and thinned. His mind was more collected, more focused, and he realised he was acting out. Shamefully, he bowed his head at Felix and Calhoun, "Sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. It was wrong."

"Apology accepted?" Felix was confused but, being the genial person he was, he accepted the apology regardless. Smiling, he prompted, "and the Grand Prix?"

"Oh! Um...," Ralph rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "I think she's gonna continue as planned, regardless of Turbo, 'cause it'll be a good distraction. She should be able to keep his influence out of the Prix. Besides, President Poopyface knows what she's doing, nine years old or not. I have faith in her."

Satisfied with his answer, Felix grabbed his girlfriend's hand and crossed the threshold into the transit for _Sugar Rush_. Ralph attempted to follow, only to be stopped by Surge Protector.

"Hold up! Random security check." Surge held up a hand to halt Ralph in his tracks, eyes on his clipboard.

"Aww! C'mon Surge! You and I both know this is about as random as the graffiti in the transit tunnels! Do we have to do this _every time I cross the threshold into some other Game_?"

"Name?" Surge Protector was apathetic to his cries of outrage, cooly looking down at his checklist.

"Wreck-It Ralph," the giant groaned loudly as Calhoun snickered at him.

"Coming from?" He tried to ignore the blatant sense of joy stopping Ralph who, although a Bad Guy, was a real teddy bear beneath the six-hundred-something pounds of muscle and anger issues.

"_Fix-It Felix Jr._. I'm heading to _Sugar Rush_, so you don't ask me, and I want you to go die in _Pitfall_ or get eaten by a Cy-bug in _Hero's Duty_."

Surge Protector stifled his disappointment, "Okay, duly noted. Next time, however, please refrain from answering questions I haven't asked yet." With a flicker, he shot into the floor and darted off to question someone over by the _DDR_ plug who was carrying what suspiciously looked like a poison mushroom, three 1-UPs, and an invincibility star.

Ralph stomped his way into the _Sugar Rush_ transit tunnel and lightly tapped Calhoun upside the head. "Don't laugh. He does this every time I pass through the _Station_."

Unperturbed by his—violent, although less so than normal—whack upside the head, Calhoun shot him a terrifying grin. "That's why it's funny. It's completely obvious he loves you!"

_Oh sweet Edison,_ Ralph thought as he entered his friend's Game, _let that not be true._

**8347 7|-|3 5|-|17 0|_|7 0|= |-|1/\/\**

Felix tried, oh he tried **so hard** not to be jealous but...the way she laughed when he talked to her. The smile on her face. The sweet items of affection he bestowed upon her. All of his mannerisms when he was around her just **pissed him off**.

Now he felt guilty for thinking cuss words.

Well, he just couldn't help it. That gol-darned plumber!

Mario was currently flirting with **his** girlfriend and she was reciprocating. **Reciprocating**!

_Ohh...there is gonna' be Void t'pay!_

"So I was-a looking into the Code and I noticed that-a there is an increase in the corrupted files and I think-a that it may be fighting back every time I use the booster." Mario shuffled back and forth as he explained the dilemma to Calhoun as Felix swallowed a deep, dirty lump in his throat.

"And you can't just _not_ use the booster," Calhoun supplemented.

"Exactly! So, since you seem-a to have a grasp on basic Coding, would you accompany me to the Code Room?" Mario proffered his gloved hand to hers, the honeyglows covering his cheeks and round proboscis.

Calhoun took him up on his offer, allowing the plumber to lead her out of the Throne Room with an air of elegance. Felix silently cursed.

"Lose something?" Vanellope's cheeky voice intruded upon his glowering.

"M'lady..."

"No y'didn't!" Vanellope swung her legs from her seat on the throne, smiling at Felix like there was nothing wrong.

"What do y'mean 'No y'didn't!'?" Felix threw his hands down in frustration, pointing angrily at the hallway to the Code Room, "She just left with a mushroom-munchin' Italian meatball!"

"No, she left with _Mario_!" Vanellope'a voice was heavily laden with sarcasm, eyes rolling at Felix's thickheadedness. "She loves _you_ ya' pint-sized dolt!"

_Pint-sized...funny comin' from someone my size...,_ as hard as Felix didn't want to, he found himself continuing to worry about Calhoun and Mario. Even the blatant irony in her statement did nothing to subdue the worried butterflies flitting around in his gut. He swallowed heavily and continued to pace under Vanellope's bemused observation. She hung over the throne while he almost walked a rut into the floor, worrying so hard.

Suddenly a loud **'BANG'**ing noise rang from by the Code Room and Mario came flying out of the hallway like a plugin out of Void. He squealed like a stuck pig as rapid plasma-fire chased him across the Throne Room. "No! I didn't—"

"_You get back here you little runt!_" Calhoun's voice, ice-cold and blade-sharp, cut through the commotion as she emerged from the hallway as well. Her pistol in hand, she was firing at Mario with a vigour Felix had only seen in her during Gameplay. Her pretty features were twisted in a snarl, but Felix still thought she looked gorgeous.

"I'm-a trying to say that I am-a _sorry_!" Mario howled as he was grazed by a plasma bolt.

"And you think a simple 'sorry' will get you out if this?! You _kissed_ me! On the _lips_!" Felix was suddenly filled with a sick sense of satisfaction when he heard that; she didn't like him! What a relief!

"But I thought you were-a interested," the plumber justified.

"Well you were wrong. I have a _boyfriend_ if you haven't noticed! I have _standards_, you miniature polygamist! And don't you have Peach?! Bet she's gonna be pleased as punch to hear this!" Calhoun had holstered her weapon and snagged Mario by the straps of his overalls. "_Won't she?_?"

"P-please! Please don't hurt me!" Mario whimpered, tears and snot dribbling down his chin in an undignified manner. He looked a bit like Gene, whenever he got completely plastered and rejected by one of the Niceland women; especially if it was Mary.

"I'm not gonna' hurt ya'," Calhoun's tone was quiet and metered, danger lurking behind each syllable. "I'm going to let Peach have that honour."

"_**NO!**_ Don't tell Peach! _Please!_ She'll murder me and I don't-a want to be-a murdered!" Mario flailed in her arms wildly, trying to get free as she hoisted him up.

Felix had seen enough. He felt the plumber had had enough—and he had proof that she truly loved him, and him alone. "I think he's had enough Tammy. Put'im down."

Calhoun's expression softened slightly, as did her grip on the poor protagonist. He wriggled free and scuttled over to the far end of the Throne Room to cower behind Vanellope. She shoved him off with a look of disgust and glitched away.

"He," Calhoun pointed a sharp and accusing finger at Mario, "Kissed. Me."

"An' he's been scared half outta his wit 'cause of it! Let him be, Tammy." Felix wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed tight, the honeyglows brightening his face.

Calhoun sputtered, face contorting before she finally gave in. "_Fine_," she spat, "But don't expect me to like him after this."

"I wouldn't dare." Felix turned to face Mario and scowled, an expression not-too-common on the handyman's face. "Now see here, mister! That is _my girlfriend_ you kissed an' that ain't gonna' fly! You're gonna' go over there and 'plogise t'her an' then you're gonna' 'pologise to Vanellope for distruptin' her sugar-coated peace. _Right now._"

The Italian gulped, almost comically, and slowly walked over to Calhoun, "Um...miss-a Calhoun?"

"Yes?" The word was a hiss, pushed from between gritted teeth and coupled with a dark glare that would kill if it could.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't-a have kissed you. I knew about mister-a Felix and I am...I am unhappy with Peach. It's my personal life and I shouldn't let it effect-a my work! Please forgive-a me..." Penitence emanated from Mario's very being and, much to her own surprise, Calhoun nodded.

"You're forgiven. But," she warned, "if you do that again, I will pull your entrails out of your anus and leave your hanged carcass in the middle of _House of the Dead 4_ for the zombies to snack on; _got it?_" Mario nodded fervently and she backed off to stand at Felix's side.

The plumber turned to the president and bowed his head. "President-a Vanellope? I...uh...I am sorry for disturbing the peace here. It is wrong of-a me, as your guest, to cause-a such chaos."

Vanellope snorted, once again hanging upside-down from her throne. "Pshaw, no prob' little man! 'Sides, I think you're more valuable to us alive than dead. Plus," she leaned in and grinned mischievously at Mario, "Calhoun's reaction was _priceless_!"

Mario blushed heavily and stuck his hands in his pockets. Suddenly Felix was reminded of the plumber's younger brother, Luigi. That reminded him of his counterpart, and adoptive brother, Ralph. "Hey y'all, where's Ralph?"

Vanellope shrugged, "'Dunno...he took the booster and ran off faster than you could say 'great gushing Gobstoppers'. Must've wanted to see Turbo." The distaste the president held for her prisoner was evident, on top of a big case of the heebie-jeebies.

"What is he-a doing down there?!" Mario wondered aloud.

"That," Felix stated with a smile on his face, "is his business, not ours.

**|=00|_ (4|\||)`/**

Ralph was shouting now, face a vermillion hue, "Why won't you tell me anything?! I was your friend Turbo!"

"Because, dear _oaf_, I wasn't ever your friend, just the object of your latent homosexual fantasies." Turbo taunted Ralph from the ceiling, his narrow face looking positively _smug_.

"_**GRAAAARGH!**__ Why—I'll show you latent homosexual fantasies, you little—!_" Ralph screamed, successfully not breaking a single thing in the cell. "What _happened_ to you, Turbo? Why—what—why would you do those things?"

Turbo smirked, "Your halitosis rotted the goodness right out of my heart."

Ralph screamed again and left the cell, slamming the door shut as gently as he could—despite the massive contradiction. "What the fuck is his issue?!"

"Fool Candy." A voice said from the shadows, startling Ralph.

"What?" Ralph looked for the suspect and found no one. "Who was that?"

"Me." Ralph's attention was caught by Sour Bill as he walked into the light.

"Sour Bill?! You?" Ralph was speechless, the hard candy hated him after the whole "licks to get to your centre" thing. Why would he be mysteriously hiding in the shadows, telling Ralph weird things.

"He was Fool Candy before he was King Candy," the droll NPC repeated, clarifying things for Ralph. "Ask him about that. He can't not talk about that."

Ralph stopped, eyebrows furrowing, "Whaddya mean 'he can't not talk about that'?! Has he been holding out on me?"

"Mmmyeah...," Sour Bill nodded and then shook his head, "and no...I'm not sure if he really can't tell you what's up. He would babble on or sing _the Void's Lullaby_ and then break off to say something, only to dissolve into a tangent whenever he hit the topic of what was wrong with him..."

This was new information to Ralph, and useful information at that. "Thank you?" The candy man nodded at him and scurried off, little green feet clacking against the floor. Ralph turned back to face his ex-friend's cell with a frown set grimly on his face. "Alright," he whispered to himself, "no time to be soft. Don't lose your temper either, just don't give in to his taunts. No matter what he says, get that information out of him. Okay." He sighed and steeled himself for the torment he was about to endure.

"What'cha doin'?" Vanellope's sudden appearance didn't startle Ralph in the slightest. In fact, he was becoming quite used to her coming-and-going via glitch. "Y'look tenser than normal."

Ralph pushed down the feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, "Do you...do you know of someone named 'Fool Candy'?"

Vanellope blinked in surprise and then shook her head, "Can't say that I do. Sounds familiar, but I can't place it; why?"

"Just something Sour Bill said..." The Bad Guy looked at Turbo's door and grimaced, "I've got to figure out what's up with him!"

"So ask!" Vanellope suggested chipperly.

"_That's just it!_ Turbo won't tell me anything!" He swung his arms around in exasperation, "If I could get him to talk, I would. That's why," he frowned as he stared intently at Turbo's door, "I'm going to mention Fool Candy. Something tells me that that should get some information from him."

"Why'dya think that?" Hazel eyes met brown as Vanellope cheekily smirked at her "royal chump".

"Because Sour Bill said that, before Turbo masqueraded around as King Candy, he was called Fool Candy." Vanellope stared.

"No way. No," she shook her head violently, "there is no way that..._that thing_ was ever accepted in this Game." Yet, contrary to her statement—however adamant it was—she could not shake the feeling of knowing that name. _...Fool..._ Snorting, she rolled her eyes at Ralph, "Pfft, fool Candy? What a dweeb!"

"No," Ralph corrected gently, masking his own insecurities with a soft smile at her wordplay, "Fool as in a court jester. They were meant to make merry and—"

"I _know_ what a jester is; sheesh!" Vanellope's whole avatar flickered blue as she was accosted by a wave of senses.

_A man in a brightly coloured coat dances, a smile on his face. "Look Vanilla Bean! I'm a Jelly Belly!"_

_A smile, lighting up a man's face as he stares at the castle in awe. "This is your home?!"_

_Yellow teeth and eyes gritted and glaring at her, "Lay off! I don't want to be bothered..."_

_Screams, a name, and tears blurring her sight as she stares at the wreckage of a red-and-white frosted kart. _

_Bits and baubles tickling her face as she squirms. A man in a purple and cream outfit laughing raucously. "P-please st-stopppppp!"_

_"Are you a hobo?"_

_"I'm not a hobo!"_

_"Why are your teeth so freakishly yellow?"_

_"The fu—why are you so freakishly annoying?!"_

_An upside-down grin at a man with a bulbous nose as he tries to scale a caramel corn cliffside._

_"Vanilla Bean...when can I race?" Sad looks, pleading, a heavy weight settles in her gut, guilt and pain. "Never."_

"C-can I come?" Ralph doesn't have to look at her to know something is up, he just gestures her towards the door.

"Fleas before beauty."

Vanellope doesn't even crack a smile, too intently focused on her task at hand: finding out just what the **Void** is going on with Turbo and, subsequently figuring out who Fool Candy is. She pushed the door open and crossed the threshold into Turbo's cell.

_No turning back now._


	5. Fools and Kings pt2

**(A/N: Forgive me, it took way too long to get this finished. I knew what I wanted to say, just not how to say it. Needless to say, I think you'll like this one. I will point out that I LOVE nightmare/dream sequences. They are too much fun to write. In addition, Turbo's little backstory gives some insight on how he works, but his dream gives some character exposition. Fanon-style though.)**

"Who is Fool Candy?" Ralph and Vanellope asked in unison, the latter perched at her usual place on the former's shoulder.

"Fool Candy?" Turbo looked surprised, and slightly cornered when the two Programs walked in to his cell, interrogation guns-a-blazin'. "You're the fool, _fool_."

"Turbo," Ralph warned, eyes mere slits beneath heavily furrowed brows, "tell me the truth."

"Sh-she knows, _she knows!_ Ask the Glitch, she can tell you!" Turbo squeaked from his new perch on the ceiling, just out of Ralph's reach. He looked horrified, and uncooperative.

"I want _you_ to tell me. You've been skirting around my questions all day so I want you to _tell me now!_" Ralph was slowly losing his temper, which was—for rather obvious reasons—not good at all.

"'Sides," Vanellope added, "I still don't have access to all of my memories thanks to a certain someone—_**TURBO!**_" Her fake-cough startled the ex-dictator from where he was, and he ran to the far corner of the cell.

"Well it's not my fau—wait, actually it is..._never mind!_" Turbo gesticulated, claws whipping about in circles to emphasise his speaking. "The point _is_: I can't help you."

"I can make you," Ralph threatened.

"Again, with the threats and the halitosis," Turbo commented, waving imaginary wafts of bad breath from his face. "_Theriouthly_, you're too in love with me to do anything to me."

"Wanna' bet?!" As Ralph advanced on the diminutive jerk, Turbo cackled.

"You're serious?! You are _seriously_ going to beat on me, your unrequited love?" Fear flickered across his face, chased away by a red glitch.

"The Turbo I had feelings for disappeared when he went to _Road Blasters_, and was replaced by a psychotic asshat who can't seem to get a grip on reality. We are going to make you tell us who Fool Candy is, even if I have to resort to violence against you." Ralph was dead serious, Turbo could see that.

"H-how about I tell you the story of Fool Candy, hmm?" Vanellope and Ralph sat down on the cell's rock-candy concrete floor as Turbo nervously glitched his way towards them. The twitchy—and somewhat stretched-looking—racer took a deep breath. Flickering, he began.

570|?`/ 71/\/\3!

"Once upon a time, there was a knight, the best in the kingdom. He was fast, he was handsome, and he was so fantastic that everyone loved him.

"Now this knight, he owned a small hamlet and he kept good care of it, but there were those in his hamlet that were jealous of him. The knight's two brothers _hated_ that the knight was praised for winning jousts and duels all the time. They didn't win that often, so why should the winner get praised?!

"So they plotted with the neighbouring hamlet's reigning knight, and decided to make sure the knight lost against him. For the neighbouring knight was a jealous and controlling man who wanted all the glory for himself. So the plan was made and the three went back 'home' to convince their brother to fight the other knight.

"He agreed and it began, the knight's humiliation. The other knight had used all sorts of spells to make it so that he could win. When the knight lost, he felt pain—pain so great he thought he would tear in two. How _dare_ that knight beat him?! He was the best! He was the greatest! He was_turbo-lightdamn-tastic_!

"So the knight, mad with rage, bullied the truth out of the weakest brother. In his fury, he made the poor mistake of allowing him to leave unscathed, and the brother alerted the other knight to the impending doom.

"There was a skirmish at the border and they weaker brother didn't survive, but the plan went down without a hitch, just like the knight planned. Sure, he was upset that his brother died, but he was more pleased that the neighbouring knight was long gone. To add insult to the most grievous injury, he set fire to the neighbouring hamlet.

"Now, no one in the kingdom liked that. They called for blood, for the death of the knight, but he was long gone. Like an assassin in the night, he disappeared, never to be seen.

"Flash-forward ten years into the future. The knight, since running from judgement, had learned to live on the fringe of society. He occasionally had to resort to murder—but that was a moot point because it was an honour to be murdered by him anyway—and thievery, but he survived.

"A new hamlet had been built over the remains of his hamlet—which, if I forgot to mention, was demolished after he fled the coop—and its knight was just as good at jousting as he was! How was this possible, he thought, that this knight was as good as him?! The hamlet was pretty nice too.

"Using magic, the knight snuck into the new hamlet and befriended their reigning knight under the guise of a fool. The 'fool' wormed his way into her—that's right, the new knight was female—favour and then—BAM! Much like the knight did all those years ago, he took the new knight's place and ousted her.

"He took every precaution this time, wiping memories and changing appearances using the black magic he learned during his exile. He made the new knight look like a dirty little brat and took her place as the 'new knight'. No one knew better because the knight never left _his_ hamlet, lest he be found out.

"But a peon found out. A dirty, filthy peon from a hamlet the knight had once visited back before his exile. Ten years after his takeover of his new hamlet, the knight was discovered by a ham-handed, ignorant, slovenly, clumsy, _oaf_ and the dirty brat he ousted!

"All his hard-laid plans, gone to waste. All because one dirty _**brat**_ couldn't keep her nose out of the jousting competitions! No matter how good his spells were, the knight could never get rid of the deep-down, gut-feeling that she absolutely _had_ to compete. That was his downfall.

"They burned him at the stake. Threw the knight into the fires of the Void right before the usurper's eyes. He screamed and screamed, but no one heard. No one cared.

"He spent a lot of time in the Void, that knight. It was painful, being forced to relive every last one of his mistakes for the rest of eternity. He begged the Void to spit him out, give him another chance at life. He would do better, he promised, they would suffer.

"He didn't mean it. Living was hard. Being hated was harder, but the Void spat him out anyway. The Void had a purpose for him.

"The end." Turbo crossed his arms angrily and scowled at Ralph and Vanellope. "Happy?! Can I go?! Can _you_ go?! Your very presence nauseates me."

Ralph was horrified; yeah, he knew Turbo had issues and that he had gotten _Turbo Time_ and _RoadBlasters_ unplugged, but he never knew he had killed one of the Twins. He had always assumed that Throttle had just...gotten lost when _Turbo Time_ was declared Triple-O.

The fact that Turbo **willingly murdered** Throttle...that scared him.

Vanellope, on the other hand, felt the strangest sense of dejá vu. She had heard that story before, she just knew it. The nuances were different, but the tale was the same.

_"Once upon a time, there was a foolish jester who thought he was a knight. He allowed his hubris to overtake his good sense, and let his anger rule him. Because of his mistake, many lives were lost."_

The thought that Turbo had hidden in her game for that long scared her, but the name Fool Candy evoked a warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside her chest, a bit like when Ralph would take her over to _Tappers_ for karaoke night and then duet _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_ with her. Belonging, perhaps even happiness. Comfort maybe? She wasn't too sure what she was feeling but boy-howdy did she hate feeling that way about Tur-butt of all Programs!

Turbo kept twitching and glitching, throwing worried glances in their directions as they mulled over their feelings. He seemed nervous, breathing shallow and skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

Ralph was the first to move, standing up and dusting off his overalls. "Thank you," he gruffly acknowledged Turbo with a curt nod and then faced Vanellope, "I—I've gotta go do some thinking."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Have fun, ya' big galoot!" Vanellope's flippant dismissal of Ralph was a beard, covering up her own hollowness and confusion. Without so much as a glance backwards, the giant lumbered out of the cell and back to _Fix-It Felix Jr._. That suited her just fine; gave her some time to think.

Or maybe even talk.

The pause that stretched between Vanellope and Turbo was excruciating, to say the least. Turbo's nervous restlessness and pacing back-and-forth in his corner away from Vanellope did not mix well with her contemplative brooding. The silence—unfortunately not the tension—finally broke when Vanellope cleared her throat.

"I...I don't remember Fool Candy. Or who I was before the whole...incident, I suppose you could call it? I'm sure I was even more awesome than I am now, yeah, but it makes me wonder." A deep sigh and she looked over to make eye-contact with the racer, "Why?"

The clicking of his claws together was sharp and unexpected as he drummed his fingers together, "Because I could."

"No," she wasn't going to accept some vanilla-bean lie, "why _Sugar Rush_? I know there has to have been a buh-million other racing games before this one—and p'rolly more after us—so why come here?!"

"Because I _could_! It was there! It was easy! It was safe!"

"It was _safe_...," realisation dawned, "you weren't in danger of dying if the courses were made of candy. You weren't in danger of crashing if you were playing against children lighter than you! I get it!"

_Mmhmm,_ thought Turbo, _the whole nine yards..._

"But...why come back?"

"Gag me with a spoon, girl! Do you ever _stop talking_?!" His teeth bared at her, sharp edges and pixilating borders, and he hissed. "For fuck's sake, leave me alone! I told you your damn bedtime story, so fuck off!"

Vanellope's mouth set in a straight line, determined and pissed. "No, you fuck off! I'm just tryin' to understand! I don't know why I'm even still_here_! I don't know who Fool Candy is an your 'bedtime story' did nothing! But, believe it or not, Fool Candy may have meant something to me at one point in time or another. Whether or not your time as Fool Candy meant anything to you is _your issue_ but I am _confused_ and I am _angry_ but I am mostly _tired of your bullshit_." She frowned, tears glimmering in her eyes, and glitched through the ceiling with a parting goodbye, "Fuck you, Turbo. Fuck you for making me even try to care."

Alone in his cell, Turbo dreamt.

|\|16|-|7/\/\4|?35

Everywhere was pain. Bright, blinding pain the colour of foam.

Burning, his skin was burning. It shouldn't burn like this! He was pixels, ones and zeroes, not flesh and blood! He shouldn't hurt like this! This was wrong!

The smell pervaded his nostrils, suffocating him in CO2 and sugar and burning graphics. (Did he forget to remove the pot roast from the oven again?! Throttle was going to be pissed if he burned the roof of their oven again.) Soda and bile spilled past his lips. (Oh Edison, it hurts! Make it stop!) Graphics breaking, wings tearing, he was one with the Void. (Please!)

There is nothing but the pain. Nothing but the hurt. (You are a failure. You couldn't be number one, you couldn't save your Game, you couldn't even take over another one.) In the Void, he remembers.

She smiles at him, "Heya' Tur-butt!"

"Turbo to you, ragamuffin." A smile, when was the last time he smiled? Ten, twenty years ago? So long...it had been so long.

"Fool Candy, if you wanna' keep living here." She is bright, she is the sun illuminating his way in the darkness.

"Well what do you have planned for today?" She is his reason, his purpose. Make her happy. When had he changed?

"Nuthin' much. None of the players have unlocked me yet, so I was just gonna' fart around in Kandy Kein forest for a bit. Escort me?" Cheeky little bitch. He had come in here, looking for an opportunity to hit the Code Room and make himself number one again. She had made a fool of him.

"Only if you beg." He could never reach her, she was unattainable and his hands were stained with the binary of too many Programs.

"Fool?! You dare defy your reigning royalty?! I shall have you executed for this offence!" Smiling, always smiling. How could she smile when she never was, never won? It baffled him, enchanted him, drew him in.

"Alas, my princess, I must refuse your kind offer of beheading. You see, there would be no point since I have long since lost my head!" If he could make her laugh, he would be forgiven. If he could race with her, it would be perfect. If he could forget, this could be home.

Blurring at the edges, pain and torment, bright, bright light, saccharine regurgitation, happiness turns to hate. Somewhere he forgot who he was and became what he wasn't. He could never forget his Code.

"I've been thinking—"

"Well that's dangerous."

Bitch, brat, shut up! Let me speak! "The deadline is so close now—"

"Fifteen minutes left and then we're golden!" Stop lightdamn interrupting me!

"—and I was wondering if I could race with you. Just once before I try for the Roster?" Hope, sunshine and warmth, he was waiting for the answer.

"No." Shatter, scatter, like glass in the wind.

"Why the Void not?!" Forget your manners, lose your temper, give in – give in! "One race, that's all I ask for! One race before the Roster!"

"No racing. Ever." No. Liar. He had almost forgotten for her. That bitch. "They don't like you and I'm not too sure that the Integration would actually work. It's still just a theory, and I'm not too keen on testin' it. S'pecially not on you."

"I—you promised!" Liar, she was a liar. Fucking bitch! Lightdamn liar! She promised, she promised, she promised! "You promised me!"

"I said you could stay." Queen of ice, princess of sugar frozen deep in her heart. If she even has a heart, that conniving brat. "Never said you could race."

"One race. You and me." Pleading, bargaining, anything for one last race. "Gimme a standard kart and one lap against you, no power-ups. If I win, I get to race. If I lose, I'll stay here with you forever, I promise. Just one race..." Begging, what a fucking laugh. He never begged. Not even in the face of Rocky, he stood his ground.

Pity. She pities him. Sick. "Okay. One race."

Blurs, time passes, so close—_so close_! They race—so close—he's in first—just a little more—she bumps him—ten seconds—he spins and spins and spins—five—hits the wall—four—spins away—three—teeters on the edge—two—falls—one—he is gone.

She cries, lamenting his death. She is a liar.

He lives. He breathes. He is _pissed_!

She killed him! He could have _died_!

He didn't forget anymore. He would _erase_ her. _He would make her __**suffer**_!

He would...

He...

...


	6. Flicker, Flutter, Butterfly

**(A/N: Borrowed the chapter title from another Wreck-It Ralph story I'm working on, only because it fits the content so perfectly. "A butterfly's wingbeat..." is this chapter's motif. It's the little details that matter here. Pay attention. And, once again, I play with the pallet-swaps. They are my little toys. And Taffyta is a royal bitch. Also, originally unicorns were goat-based, not horse-based. Even though Sprinkles looks like a horse-unicorn, I am taking artistic liberties. I like a goat-unicorn better anyway. Feels ahoy!)**

Taffyta glared holes in Vanellope's head as she stared at the Roster. Why? Why the **Void** was she allowing pallet-swaps to race?! She knew **for a fact** that she had **not**—nor had anyone else—voted for the Swizz. **So why wasn't he there, on the Roster?** Neither was Rancis, or Snowanna for that matter.

"I don't understand why you're letting the pallet-swaps on the Roster? Where are Rancis, Swizzle, and Snowanna? They were supposed to race today!" Candlehead chimed, looking confused—and, to the relief of the pallet-swaps, not irritated at the pallet-swaps for existing—unlike Taffyta.

"Well...y'see...," Vanellope stammered, the four pallet-swaps standing behind her looking nervous as well.

_Not prepared for **that**, were you **Your Hoity-toity-ness**?_ Oh, she was penitent at first, scared she would be punished for her wrongdoings, but when the novelty and epinephrine wore off – _alley-oop!_ – back to the Taffyta that Vanellope knew and 'loved'.

"Look; they just caught a small virus s'all. Dr. Mario's working on it—m'sure you've seen him comin' and goin' lately—and we should be golden. That being said: the pallet-swaps are just as a part of this game as we are!" They brightened, entire faces lighting up at her words. "Therefore, at least one pallet-swap is on the Roster per day, and you'll treat 'em no different than y'would any other Roster member." There were hushed murmurs in the crowd, glances exchanged, and rumours started as the normal racers took in this information. "Since Torvald took Rancis' place yesterday, Nougetsia, Citrusella, and Sticky will be racing today in the sick racer's spots. I've already entered the info into the Code, so no grumblin' about it _Taffyta_."

Taffyta bristled, how **dare** that Glitch call her out?! **How dare she?!**

"And thusly ends our gathering! Meeting adjourned!" Vanellope glitched away, a cheeky grin in place, and saluted the pallet-swaps before hopping in the Jaw Breaker and driving off. "Good luck girls!"

"Thanks so much Vanellope!" Citrusella squealed.

"Thank you!" Sticky called out. Nougetsia simply blushed and waved. Their president drove off in a cloud of powdered sugar and sprinkles, and was gone.

Taffyta fumed silently, her dark mood picked up by Candlehead and—in lieu of Rancis—Jubileena Bing-Bing, who gravitated away from her while the remainder of the racers remained oblivious to their impeding doom.

"She's going on the warpath...," Candlehead whispered to Jubileena. The cherry-themed racer nodded and tried to scurry away from the simmering time-bomb that was Tafftya. Gloyd Orangeboar, on the other hand, decided now would be the perfect time to play the perfect prank.

With a flick of the wrist, he tossed a single piece of candy corn down the back of her shirt, and whistled loudly. In the distance, a cloud of chocolate powder was getting closer, accompanied by the sound of hoofbeats and bleating. Then, almost out of nowhere, Skittles the uni-candy-corn tackled Taffyta to the ground, snuffling around in her clothes in search of the piece of candy corn. His beard tickled her shoulders and he left lines of slobber all down her back as she writhed and shrieked. While Candlehead and Jubileena looked on horrified, Gloyd was doubled over laughing.

"Oh _Edison_! This is _hilarious_! Get 'er Skittles!" Gloyd wheezed, he was laughing so hard. He had fallen to the ground and was kicking his legs frantically with each giggly shriek he let out. The other racers had long-since realised that this was **not** a good idea, and were backing away from Taffyta, who had gotten the candy corn out and was headed towards Gloyd, murder present in her glare.

"You little **jerk!**" Taffyta seized Gloyd by his collar and hoisted him up by the collar of his uniform. His feet dragged the ground, limply now, as he stared into the Void radiating from her eyes, mirth fading.

"Aww, c'mon Taffyta. It was just a little joke. You still have a sense of humour, don'tcha?" Gloyd stammered weakly, fearing for his life now. Taffyta was an angel when she wanted to be, and a demon when she didn't. Now was one of those demon times.

She leaned in close to Gloyd, giving him a good view of her smeared mascara and dripping hair, and growled, "If that was funny, I'm sure that you'll find your trip to the Diet Cola Hot Springs an absolute _hoot_."

Gloyd froze, horror flashing across his face, "No. Please no! I-I'll be good, I promise! Please don't!"

"C'mon Taffyta, that's enough." Torvald stepped in front of the racer, hands on her hips. "You're just being mean now."

Taffyta dropped Gloyd and glared at Torvald, radiating a dangerous aura. "What did you say to me, _recolour_?"

Torvald flinched at the slur and then steeled her gaze, staring down the lollipop racer, "You need to quit. Just because things aren't going your way, doesn't mean you get to pitch a fit. We may be Programmed as children, but you need to act more your age. Ten years in Litwak's should'veallowed you to mature more. Looks like you're still an immature _brat_."

Tafftya fumbled for words, stumbling over her syllables and stammering as she searched for a rebuttal, "Yeah? Well...I-I don't care what you think, _recolour_ !"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Citrusella commented, taking a stand next to Torvald.

"Yeah," Sticky added, "what's so bad about being pallet-swap anyway? Or, as you put it, recolour" She and Nougetsia stood next to their fellow pallet-swaps, glaring down Taffyta. Even the confrontation-avoiding Adorabeezle pallet-swap was taking a stand against the bullying Taffyta was doing.

Taffyta floundered, suddenly outnumbered, "I—that is—you—"

"You don't even have the guts to attack us when there's more than one of us around. You—we—did the same thing to Vanellope, and you know what? She found it in her heart to forgive you, to forgive all of us; and you have the gall to continue to hate and bully anyone who doesn't agree with you. _How pathetic is that_?!" The other racers agreed with Sticky, nodding and murmuring about how badly Taffyta treated them.

Candlehead spoke up, "Tafftya, Rancis and I are your friends but...sometimes you scare us. We wanna' be there for you, but you push everyoneaway, and you're so mean to us. We're your friends, not your lackeys and, well, unless you can figure out a way to change your 'tude, we're not gonna' be friends much longer." She looked at her feet nervously, "And, cause I've always been kinda' worried how you would react, I've never said that...I think the re_—pallet swaps—_are kinda' cool..."

The other racers began to clap and cheer, agreeing with Candlehead and wanting to let the pallet swaps know their true feelings.

"I've always thought that having a pallet swap was like having a twin...kinda neat," Jubileena admitted.

"I always just admired you from afar, being to scared to say anything to you directly," Adorabeezle said.

"You two are such good friends it makes me jealous some times," Minty Zaki commented.

The others, including Gloyd, who got back up and dusted himself off after petting Skittles for a minute, swarmed the pallet swaps and asked them questions.

Forgotten and angry, Taffyta skulked away, her form flickering a bright red. _Stupid recolours, I'll show them. I'll show them all!_

/\/\3|)1( \/\/4|?|)

Rancis tossed and turned.

_Darkness then light. Bright, flashing, blinding, **it burns!** Bile drips between his lips (why does this hurt, it shouldn't hurt!) he cries (**please, someone save me**) he thrashes in the Void (make it stop!). No, the Void replies, you will suffer...you will all suffer (**someone please save me! Edison! please!**)._

His sheets were soaked in sweat.

_He's in a kart, racing, then there's a crash. Fire, fire everywhere! (it burns! it burns!) No one will come to save him, no one cares. **No one cares enough to save me...**_

Next to him lay Snowanna, her rainbow-coloured afro dull and limp. She, too, was thrashing in her sleep; her form flickered red and Void with the rabbit-tempo of her heartbeat.

_She is a vengeful god, raining fire down upon her enemies. **Die! All of you die!** They tormented her, they laughed at her, they had to die! All of them had to suffer, and then perish! She laughs as she devours them, one-by-one, tendrils of red and Void spearing them and absorbing them into her collective being. **They deserve it,** she tells herself as she cries tears of binary, **after all they've done to me...and to her...**_

Swizzle flopped around on his bed, tangling himself in the sheets. His breaths came in short gasps, shallow and frenzied.

_The darkness is never-ending (**I want to go home!**), the darkness is all-devouring (**please let me go!**), it will never let go of its prey (**please! please!**). He looks back to his past, **what a fool I was, a fool indeed**. She is his light **if only I could reach her, but I am too tainted**. He reminisces **oh, to turn back the hands of time**. His mouth is covered (shh, you mustn't tell them) and he cannot speak (you cannot tell them) all he says are lies and echoes (you will not tell them). He is bound._

The three infected racers lay in their beds, unable to stop the torrent of nightmares that overwhelmed them. Bits of Code broke off and was replaced by Void in their sleep. Time was running out.

|-|3|?03'5 |)|_|7`/

Calhoun fired off round after round at the Cy-Bug shaped target in front of her, hitting all the vital points. She couldn't sleep—not that she **had **to, per se, it was a mere commodity—and there was nothing more relaxing than shooting a gun. She fired off one last round and then holstered her pistol with practiced ease as Felix approached her.

"Tammy?" His voice quavered as he walked towards his girlfriend, unsure and tired rolled into one.

"Couldn't sleep either?" She knelt down to give her boyfriend a hug, "Rough afternoon?"

"You know it," Felix sighed deeply and snuggled deeper into her arms, mindful of her breasts. "Somethin' about Turbo is rubbin' me th' wrong way. I just can't put m'finger on it..."

"I would have to agree with you, short stack. Something isn't quite kosher here. He seems far too twitchy for a normal virus."

"Yeah," Felix chimed in, pulling away and looking his girlfriend in the eyes, "and have y'noticed that he's lookin' thinner and thinner ev'ry time we see him?"

She looked pensive for a moment and when she reached a conclusion, she nodded. "I have noticed that. I thought it was just me."

"No, it's been buggin' me for some time. It's like...somethin' else is goin' on." Felix mumbled, "Like he's changin' into more than a Worm."

Calhoun and Felix spent a few moments in contemplative silence, merely enjoying each other's presence. When the time came, Felix was the one to break away, locking eyes with his girlfriend and blushing. "That's a worry for 'nother time then. You think y'can sleep now?"

"Maybe," she grinned cheekily at him, then bent down and stole a chaste kiss. "Definitely. You think you can sleep now?"

"Sure can ma'am," he replied, heart aflutter and head dizzy from her display of affection. "'Night Tammy! See you t'morrow after work!"

"Affirmative," she mreplied. "I'll see you later short-stack." With their goodbyes said, the couple parted ways and Calhoun walked to her bunker while Felix headed back to his Game.

As she snuggled beneath her military-standard sheets, Calhoun stared at Kohut's bunk above her, thinking._ "Have y'noticed that he's lookin' thinner and thinner ev'ry time we see him?"_ Something about these events didn't add up. _Turbo returns; he's infected with a Virus; he's looking thinner with each passing day; some of Sugar Rush's racers are coming down with a mysterious illness; and the Grand Prix for the next three days. So what is the lynchpin What holds these events together? What...she yawned deeply, does it all mean?..._

As she drifted off to sleep, a verse of the Void's Lullaby drifted off her tongue. "_Soon you will find, It's inside your mind: the Void that devours us all. Trojans and Worms, Programs don't learn; pride comes before the fall_." Finally, sleep consumed her and she drifted off into dreamland.

Finally she rested.

|?3/\/\83|?

_Vanellope burst with laughter as he danced, belly slopping about while he gyrated. "Look, Vanilla Bean; I'm a Jelly Belly!"_

_She laughed harder, mirthful tears pouring down her face, "Oh—oh my light! Edison—! Ah-hah-hah-hah-ha! P-please—! Ee-hee-hee-hee! No—! Why are you so funny?!"_

_"Because," he leaned in close and booped her on the nose with a grin, "I'm good at it!"_

_"You—you weren't when I found you," she gasped out as he continued his ridiculous motions._

_His smile faltered, dropping from his eyes entirely, and then he chortled. "Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo! But that me is long gone; buried under mountains of **candy!**" He threw his hands in the air and small pieces of confectionary delight rained down upon the ground; she giggled again, unaware of the sadness present in his face._

_"You're th' greatest; y'know that," she sighed, her energy slowly dissipating. Her eyelids drooped and she leaned against the arms of her throne, breathing evening out._

_"No," he countered, "**You're** the greatest." She pulled him in for a hug and he looked shocked, just for a moment, until a tearful smile took over his features._

_"I...love you...Turbo...," she sighed as she snuggled deeper into his arms. A pained expression flitted across his face and he picked her up to carry her to her bed._

_"...I love you too Vanellope," he admitted softly to himself, "I love you too."_


End file.
